Settling Wheat
by MoulinP
Summary: An adventure for Heyes and Curry several years after their amnesty. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Settling Wheat (Broken) Part One

Heyes laughed humourlessly as he wrestled his younger son into his high chair. Billy was squealing with delight at the attention from his father and not co-operating.

"Bend your legs, Billy! Come on. There's a good boy."

Harry laughed at their father's attempts to stuff his brother into the chair.

"Not funny, Harry. Not funny at all," Heyes said, slightly out of breath with exasperation.

"'Tis," grinned the small boy, cheekily.

Heyes growled. "Billy! Thank you. Finally!"

He puffed when the boy was in. Then he smiled and he gave Billy's dark hair a ruffle, before turning to Harry. The older boy was sitting on the side of the chair.

"This way round, Harry, please." He swung the boy's legs round to the front and then shuffled the chair under the table. "There you go."

Heyes had just taken his place at the table when he heard a crash from the kitchen. Heyes rubbed his eyes wearily. "Oh, Susan!" he heard Mary cry.

"I'm sorry, Mama,"

"Go and sit down!"

A moment later, a forlorn little girl shuffled into the dining room. She climbed onto her chair without a word and sat there, arms crossed over her doll, head down hiding her trembling bottom lip.

"What happened, Susan?" Heyes asked gently.

"Dropped the plates," the little girl mumbled.

Heyes nodded. Yep that just about summed up the whole day. Not for the first time did he wonder whether running a band of outlaws was easier than having to deal with three small children. Especially two boys close in age. Double trouble.

It was a while before Mary came into the dining room, carrying a tray bearing plates and a stew pot. She thumped it down without a word. Heyes and the children knew better than to say anything. Even Billy stopped squealing. Mary had just taken the lid off the stew pot, and stood, ladle in hand ready to serve up, when there was a knock on the outside door.

"Oh now who's that?" she sighed, pushing back an escaped lock of hair with the back of her hand. She was tired. Heyes had been late home and dinner was probably spoilt. The children had run her ragged all day and a delay in getting them fed and put to bed was last thing she wanted.

"I'll get it," Heyes said, levering himself up quickly. He was not in her good books today. Stopping for a beer in the saloon before coming home had not gone down too well. Normally it was fine but today, obviously it wasn't. "Serve up and start."

As he crossed the hall with a frown. They weren't expecting visitors, on a cold and wet night like this. Whoever it was must have a good reason to be out. He briefly toyed with the idea of getting his gun. As he had no cause to wear it now, it might take some finding. Then he would have to search for bullets and load it. He decided it wasn't worth the effort. And the knocking sounded urgent.

A moment later, the front door was open he and was walking backwards into the hall, with his hands up. He groaned inwardly. Oh, this was all he needed today.

A man's head appeared around the door looking both ways.

"You alone, Heyes?" he asked.

"Of course I'm not alone, Wheat, my family is here," Heyes replied, irritably. "Put that away!" He gestured at the gun.

"Oh, right, sure." As Wheat holstered his gun, he flipped the door behind him shut. He wrung his hands. "Sure is cold out tonight."

"What are you doing here?" Heyes growled, in a low voice.

"Ain't ya heard?" Wheat blinked in surprise.

"Heard what?" Heyes glowered menacingly.

"The Gang. It's dang busted, Heyes. Broken." Wheat hesitated and then in case Heyes didn't understand. "No more. Finished."

Heyes licked his lips, slowly. "No, I hadn't heard that," he said, quietly. "What happened?" He knew there must be a story. Else, why would Wheat be here? "Where's Kyle?"

A flicker of pain crossed the face of the older man. Before he could answer, small feet stomped into the hall.

"Mama says she's served up and if you don't come now, it'll be cold," Susan said, firmly and then paused before lowering her voice. "Pappy, I don't think she's in an arguing mood today." She shook her head furiously and eyed the big man with her father curiously. She clutched her doll tightly to her chest.

Heyes tore his eyes from Wheat and smiled down at his daughter. "Thank you sweetheart. Tell Mama, I'll be right there."

With a nod, Susan ran back into the dining room. Heyes turned back to Wheat. He looked the older man over, noting the lack of shaving and general unkemptness. Nothing unusual there but Wheat had a hollow look in his eyes. This man had a story to tell and Heyes was curious to know what it was.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Wheat considered. "Yester … yesterday lunch, I reckon."

Heyes sighed and nodded. "We're just sitting down to dinner. Come and join us. We'll talk later."

Wheat grinned. "That's mighty good of ya Heyes. Don't mind if I do. Can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal."

"Yeah, yeah," Heyes said, stopping him from going any further. "Give me your things and then I'll show you where you can wash up."

Wheat blinked at him.

"You're kinda dirty, Wheat," Heyes growled, impatiently.

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Wheat said, in realisation and handed Heyes his hat.

Heyes looked at it in disgust and beat it against his leg, sending a cloud of dust into the air. He grunted as Wheat deposited his tan heavy canvas jacket into Heyes' arms, followed by his gloves. Heyes looked at him. Wheat looked back. Then impatiently, Heyes nodded with his head to Wheat's gun. Wheat frowned.

"There's children here!" Heyes exclaimed.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He bent to untie the throng from around his thigh and then unbuckled the belt, before piling it on top of things Heyes held. "What now?" he asked, seeing the look on Heyes' face.

"Something else?" Heyes asked, expectantly.

Wheat sucked in a breath. "Ya gonna leave me defenceless!" he growled.

"What's gonna happen to you in my dining room?" Heyes growled.

Wheat grunted. He reached between his shoulder blades and pulled out a knife, laying it on top of the pile. "Sheesh Heyes ya never know …"

"See that door over there?" Heyes cut him off and indicated the door under the stairs. "Wash up in there and then come through into the dining room."

Wheat nodded and sauntered off in that direction. Heyes watched him go with a sigh. Then conscious of the odour emanating from the pile of things he held, he scowled.

Heyes deposited Wheat's things in the study then turned and locked the door behind him. Patting the pocket where he'd put the key, he looked thoughtfully at the door Wheat had headed for. Heyes went back into the dining room.

"Can we stretch to one more, Mary, please?" Although he said it as a request, it wasn't and she frowned in surprise at his tone.

"Yes I think so. Who is it?" she snapped.

Before Heyes could answer, Wheat appeared behind him. Mary's face fell and she raised an eyebrow at her husband. He just nodded reassuringly.

"Fine," she said, getting up. "I'll get another plate," she murmured before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

"Take a seat next to Sue, Wheat," Heyes said, indicating the spot.

"It's Susan, Pappy," reminded the small girl.

Heyes nodded, duly reminded.

"Looks like you're running the gang again Heyes," Wheat chortled as he walked behind him. "This time in miniature."

Heyes smacked his lips and watched Wheat take his seat before he took his.

Susan turned to Wheat. "Hallo, I'm Susan. What's your name?"

Wheat looked at Heyes for help. Heyes just smiled ruefully.

"Er well now Little Missy …. ." Wheat blustered. "Folks call me Wheat."

"Please to meet you, Wheat. Put it there." The small girl held out her hand, expecting to shake.

Wheat looked at Heyes, who nodded with a smile. Wheat self-consciously took the small hand and shook it, solemnly.

Mary came back with the plate, saw Wheat and Susan shaking hands, and looked a question at Heyes. He smiled back, tight lipped. With a sigh, she picked up the ladle.

"I hope you like beef stew."

"Oh yes ma'am." She passed a filled plate over. "Thank you ma'am. Much obliged ma'am."

Wheat waited until the others had started before shovelling stew into his mouth. There was an uncomfortable silence around the dinner table but Wheat didn't notice so intent was he.

"It's … it's Wheat isn't it?" Mary asked suddenly and widened her eyes at Heyes when he glared at her.

"Yes ma'am."

"Susan, sit on that chair properly young lady. Nobody here needs to see your underwear."

"Yes Mama."

"Didn't you have a friend with you that last time you visited?" Mary paused. "In the middle of the night," she added, icily.

Heyes noticed the look of pain crossing Wheat's face again. Yes, there was definitely a story here for the telling.

"Yes ma'am," Wheat mumbled and attended to his dinner.

"So where is he today?"

Heyes growled and shook his head at her.

"Er … he … couldn't make it, ma'am."

"Wheat. That's a funny name," said Susan, thankfully distracting the conversation.

"Susan! Be polite to our guest now."

"Mama, I'm curious. I've haven't heard that name before so I'm just asking. Pappy says you have to ask questions if you want to know things."

Aware that Mary's eyes were boring a hole in the top of his head, Heyes kept it down, hiding his smirk.

Wheat cleared his throat. "Well now Little Missy …"

"Susan."

Wheat cleared his throat again. "It's the name my folks gave me. Just like your folks call you Susan."

"They named me after Pappy's Mama. Who did your folks name you for?"

"Is that right?" Wheat looked at Heyes. "Heyes never told me his folks' names."

"So you've known Pappy for a long time then?"

Heyes and Mary swopped glances.

"Yeah, I reckon a fair while."

"How long?"

Heyes smiled at his daughter's persistence.

"Oh well I've known Heyes for …"

Heyes looked up to see Wheat's mind considering.

"Must be … getting on for fifteen years now."

"My that is a long time! That's older'n me!" Susan's legs were drawn up on the chair again. Mary put out a hand to pat them down. "Why do you call Pappy, Heyes? His name is Joshua."

Heyes winced. Wheat looked flustered and looked at him for help. Which wasn't forthcoming. "Er well er … ." Heyes just smiled ruefully and Wheat snarled at him. "It's er … well it's like this Little Missy …"

"Susan."

"Yes yes Susan. I'll remember. Well see it's … it's a nickname. That's it. A nickname." Wheat looked pleased with himself and beamed at Heyes, who nodded.

At first, the explanation seemed to satisfy Susan and the room filled with sounds of eating.

"What's it mean?" Susan asked suddenly.

Heyes sighed and swopped glances with Mary again.

"Huh?" grunted Wheat.

"Heyes. You give a nickname for a reason. What's the reason?"

Wheat puffed and looked at Heyes for help. This time it was forthcoming.

"Eat your dinner, sweetheart, before it gets cold," he said, sharply.

Susan sighed. "Yes Pappy."

After dinner, Heyes and Wheat adjourned to the study.

"How old is Little Missy?" Wheat asked, as Heyes poured whiskey.

Heyes smiled. "Just seven."

"Was she the …?" Wheat mimed a bump.

"Yes she was," Heyes nodded and handed Wheat a glass. He indicated a seat and sank into the opposite one with a sigh. "Seven going on seventy. She's far too sharp for her own good sometimes."

"And the boys?"

"Four and a half and three and a half," Heyes said, looking up at the ceiling as he thought.

"Sheesh Heyes." Wheat chortled. "When you get the hang of something you sure do like to practice don't ya?"

Heyes smacked his lips, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Ya've got yaself a real nice set up here Heyes," Wheat said, looking round with interest. "All this from running a hardware store huh?"

"Nope not all of it. Remember Soapy?"

"Soapy Saunders? Yeah I remember ole Soapy."

"He died a few years back. Left me a bit of money in his will. Enough for me to buy a parcel of land and have this house built."

Wheat nodded. "Sure did make it hard for me to find ya. I rode all over. 'Till I saw the name of the house. That kinda gave it away." Wheat grinned. "Amnesty. Sheesh, Heyes."

"It wasn't my idea." Heyes growled. "I was overruled," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He set his glass down deliberately. "So Wheat, why were you looking for me? Can't be jus' to tell me 'bout the gang? I would of read 'bout that in the newspaper eventually." He hesitated. "What happened to Kyle, Wheat?"

Wheat put his head down and Heyes prepared himself for some hard news. He didn't press. He would let Wheat tell it in his own time.

"Me and the fellas held over the post office in Atkins." He saw Heyes' questioning look. "We's strictly small time now Heyes."

Heyes nodded and reached for his glass. "Go on."

"Few of the town's folk collected themselves into a posse didn't they? Got the jump on us and we had to light out fast." Wheat sniffed. "S'right. They weren't no good. Heart weren't in it for a long chase so we lost 'em soon enough." He took a deep breath. "Anways we's pulled up to get our breath back. Y'know how it is."

Heyes nodded. He did know how it is.

"Anyways all of a sudden Kyle's horse rears up. Musta been spooked by something. Dunno what. Caught Kyle on the hop and he falls right off over the back." Wheat swallowed hard. "Me and the boys started to laugh. Y'know Kyle. He was always falling off his horse one way or another."

Heyes smiled faintly. "Yeah."

"Only … this time …", Wheat gasped. He put his head down and his breathing came in short jerky breaths. He took a gulp of his drink. "He didn't get up Heyes. Broke his dang head on a rock didn't he?" he finished, quickly. "Died right there in front of us." Wheat shook his head. "Nothin' we could do," he forced out, struggling to contain his emotions.

Heyes saw the tears welling up in Wheat's eyes and he leant over, putting a hand on Wheat's arm.

"I'm sorry Wheat," he said, softly. "He was a good man."

They sat in silence. Wheat collecting himself, Heyes thinking back through his memories of the small scruffy man. Of all of the outlaws in Devil's Hole, Kyle had the least harm in him. He wasn't the brightest. He was often the butt of pranks and jokes but he took it all with good grace. Heyes smiled as he remembered him. His willingness to please. His enthusiasm, especially for blowing things up. He remember the laughs they'd shared. The danger they'd experienced together. The numerous close shaves. After the Kid, Kyle was probably the only one of the Devil's Hole Gang that Heyes could call friend. He mourned his passing.

While Kyle had been his friend, to Wheat, Kyle had been his partner, just like the Kid was _his_ partner. There was a special unbroken bond between partners. Even though the Kid lived two thousand miles away now, Heyes still felt him. He knew if things were wrong and he knew the Kid felt the same way. Heyes couldn't imagine losing that bond and he felt for Wheat.

"It hit all the boys hard Heyes. We's went back to the Hole but it was like a fire had gone out. Nobody wanted to talk 'bout the next job. Lobo … he was the first to go. Said he had a cousin who ran with a gang up in Canada. Reckon they did things different up there so he thought he'd go try his luck up there.

"Then Preacher said he had the callin' agin. Said it was time to go back into the fold. Or some such religious reason, I dunno." He sighed. "He jus' went one night. Nobody heard him go.

"Hank said he had enough money saved to try an' make it with his family agin. If they'd have him. So he went not long after.

"That jus' left me and Red and Sam. Don't reckon you knows them Heyes. They came in after you left."

Wheat sighed heavily. "Anyways they figured there was nothin' left for them so they headed off. Dunno where." He sighed again. "An' it got me thinkin' one night with just me an' a bottle for company. 'Bout what you said, Heyes."

Heyes blinked. "I've said a lot of things, Wheat. Care to narrow it down a bit." He didn't mean to sound unkind and he winced when he realised perhaps he had.

Wheat didn't seem to notice. "'Bout amnesty Heyes. Worked for you and the Kid. Right? An' you two were much bigger crooks than I am." Wheat licked his lips. "D'you reckon … that Governor would give me amnesty Heyes? Like yous two?"

Heyes took a deep breath. "I dunno Wheat. It's a different Governor these days."

"Jus' a thought," Wheat said, quickly and levered himself out of the chair. "Well I'd best be making tracks, Heyes. I jus' came to tell ya 'bout Kyle and the boys. Figgured ya'd wanna know what happened."

"Thanks Wheat. But you don't have to go. There's a spare bed upstairs. You're welcome to it."

"Sheesh, Heyes. I don't wanna get ya into trouble now."

"No trouble, Wheat. It's always made up. Just in case of sudden visitors."

"I mean ain't there that restriction on your amnesty? 'Bout associating with criminal types. That'll be me right enough."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah there was but only for seven years. Expired year last June." A typical Heyesian grin spread over his face and he got up. "Sit down Wheat. I'll get you another drink."

With glasses refilled, they settled again. Heyes looked at Wheat. "So, what would you do? If you got amnesty?"

Wheat shrugged. "Dunno. Don't reckon I'm much good at anything except outlawin'. It might jus' be too late for me to learn anything new."

"You can't think like that Wheat. You must have some idea."

Wheat shook his head. "Naw! I'm pretty set in my ways. Ain't got no family to go look up. Nothin' like that."

Heyes frowned. "I thought you had a brother. Sent you those awful cigars at Christmas."

Wheat shook his head. "I ain't got no brother," he said, bitterly. "I bought those cigars so …" He put his head down and couldn't continue. They both knew. It was so Wheat could pretend he wasn't alone in the world. The Devil's Hole Gang _was_ his family. The loss of the Gang and Kyle especially had broken Wheat more than he realised and talking about it was suddenly all too much. He turned away from Heyes as the dam broke.

Heyes wasn't immune to Wheat's plight and he swallowed the lump in his own throat as he listened to the sobs that were escaping from the big man. He squeezed Wheat's shoulder in sympathy.

"We can go and see Lom in the morning, Wheat. He'll know how to talk to the Governor." Heyes shook Wheat's shoulder reassuring as the shudders of his grief took him again. "We'll get you sorted, Wheat. Don't worry."

All Wheat could do was nod at that point. It was a while before he had composed himself to sit up straight again and then he was embarrassed.

"You won't say nothin' to the Kid? Or anyone 'bout this will ya?"

Heyes smiled. "No, it's just between us. Nobody else needs to know."

"Thanks Heyes." He hesitated. "You're a good friend."

They both knew that had never been the case. Heyes and Wheat had always been at loggerheads over one thing or another. The fact that Wheat was here with Heyes spoke volumes. It had taken guts for Wheat to come to him and Heyes respected him for that.

Perhaps things would be different between them in the future. Who knows? Sometimes things have to be broken first, in order to fix them.

Heyes lay on his back, one hand behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. There was a half-moon tonight and a little light reflected through the curtains. He had been awake for hours thinking about Wheat. Mary was sound asleep beside him. He smiled at her and pulled the blankets over her a little more. He was a lucky man. He had a beautiful, independently-minded and intelligent wife. She had given him three happy and healthy children. He had a thriving business and with the publication of _Hard to Go Straight, Volume 2,_ a lucrative writing career as well. He had a comfortable life now post amnesty. But he only had it by the grace of God. If things had been different, he could easily have ended up like Wheat. Or dead. Or in prison.

Wheat wasn't a bad man but if he was serious about amnesty he would need help to stay on the straight and narrow. With Kyle gone, who would do that? Heyes shook his head. He didn't have to help beyond talking to Lom for him. He was under no obligation. Hell, he couldn't even count Wheat as a friend. Yet somehow, Heyes felt a responsibility for Wheat. He had come to him for help. Despite locking horns, day in, day out when they were both in Devil's Hole, Heyes knew he couldn't abandon Wheat.

There was an idea forming in his mind but he wasn't sure that he wanted to give it serious thought. It could be a huge risk to his business. Just last week he had signed the lease on a new hardware store in Salt River, thirty miles away. He needed a manager. Could that manager be Wheat? He shook his head. He didn't know if Wheat would go for it. Could Wheat even cope with it? Could Heyes take the risk? To his livelihood, his reputation? Could he afford the time to hand-hold Wheat? All these things went through his mind as Mary stirred beside him.

"I know you're awake," she whispered.

"Yeah? How?"

"Because you're talking to me!"

They laughed gently together. Heyes shifted his arm so Mary could snuggle closer. He hand went to the opening of his Henley and smoothed the patch of hair she found there. He kissed the top of head.

"Are you thinking about Wheat?"

"Yeah," Heyes sighed, sadly. "He's a broken man, Mary. I don't want him on my conscience. I need to help him in some way."

"You'll think of something. You usually do."

Heyes grunted.

"He and Susan seemed to hit it off," she said, casually.

"Yeah." Heyes laughed gently. "That was a surprise." He paused. "Hey! You said you wanted help with the children perhaps …."

"No! Find another way to help him." Mary was firm.

"Just kidding. I've got an idea but I guess it depends on what the Governor says. I need to know that first before I can think on it some more." He sighed.

"Do you think he'll get it? Amnesty? Like you and Jed?"

"Dunno, Mary. I hope so." He sighed. "There isn't anything else for him."

Both were silent for a while thinking about Wheat. Then Heyes said, "Sooo … As we're both awake … and not doing any sleeping …"

Mary raised her head. He couldn't see her smile but he knew it was there.


	2. Chapter 2

Settling Wheat – Part Two (Zero)

Lom looked up as Heyes walked into his office. Then he frowned when he recognised the man with him. He immediately pulled his gun.

"What's this?" Lom asked, looking at Heyes for an explanation why he was in the company of Wheat Carlson, wanted outlaw.

"Lom, just listen for a moment will you? Wheat's got something to say." Heyes looked at Wheat, who was eyeing the gun in the sheriff's hand nervously. "Lom, will you put that thing away!" You won't need it."

Lom wasn't so sure. He looked back and forth between the two men. Heyes gestured irritably at him to holster the gun. Against his better judgement Lom did.

"What's this about?" he asked, sitting down. "An' it better be good!"

Heyes nudged Wheat and they took the chairs in front of the desk. Wheat lounged untidily in his, right hand staying close to his right thigh and the big weapon holstered there.

"Have you heard 'bout what happened to the Devil's Hole Gang? Over at Atkins?"

Lom sniffed, and then sighed. "I heard they robbed the Post Office there. What's that got to do with why HE'S's here?" He tossed his head in Wheat's direction. "Come to tell me it wasn't you Wheat?"

Wheat shook his head. "Naw! It were us, Trevors." He did a double take at the look Heyes gave him. "Er … I mean … Sheriff Trevors," he sniffed and smoothed his moustache nervously.

Lom gave him a doubtful look but decided to let it go. He turned to Heyes instead and raised an eyebrow.

"Something happened, Lom. After the job … to Kyle. There was an accident." Heyes paused, glanced at Wheat and then looked back at Lom. "He's dead, Lom."

Lom shifted in his chair. He remembered Kyle Murtry from his own days in Devil's Hole. He hadn't ridden with the Gang for long but in the short time he had, he had grown to like the small scruffy man. He looked at Wheat, who had his head down.

"What happened?" Lom asked, softly. He could see what losing Kyle was having on Wheat. He had never seen him so quiet. It may also account for why he looked so on edge … so fragile. If that was a word that could be used to describe Wheat. Being willingly in a sheriff's office might also account for it.

Heyes glanced at Wheat and saw that man wasn't going to speak. So it was Heyes who told Lom what had happened to Kyle and the rest of the Gang. When Heyes had finished, Lom leant back in his chair.

"So, the Devil's Hole Gang is no more. Is that it? So come to turn yourself in, Wheat?" He may have said it tongue in cheek. Only Heyes saw the faintly amused look on his face.

Wheat's head went up in horror. "Sheesh! The hell I am."

"Then …"

"Amnesty, Lom," Heyes interrupted. "Wheat wants to know if the Governor would give him amnesty."

Lom laughed. "You're kidding me! Wheat, you're a career criminal!" Privately he thought there was zero chance but he kept that thought to himself.

Wheat leapt to his feet and turned to Heyes. "See I told ya this was a waste a time! I'm outta here!"

"Now Wheat, just hold on." Heyes and Lom were on their feet as well. Heyes put a restraining hand on Wheat's shoulder. "Just have a little patience. There's a bit more talking to do. C'mon sit down." He patted his shoulder reassuringly.

With a glance at Lom, Wheat, persuaded by Heyes, sat down again. Heyes sat beside him again and they both looked at Lom, who was slower to retake his seat.

"I've got an awful feeling I'm not gonna like this," He growled as he did so.

Heyes grinned, both dimples showing. "Lom, you did it afore. Me an' the Kid were much bigger crooks than Wheat here. This'll be a piece of cake."

Lom looked doubtful. "You want ME to go talk to the Governor?"

Heyes shrugged. "Can't think of anyone better," Heyes said, triumphantly. "What d'you think?"

"I think I'd have more luck persuading the sun to shine at night!"

"Now Lom, you can't go with an attitude like that. You'll have to be more positive," Heyes chided, with a grin.

Lom growled.

"The way I see it Lom, the Devil's Hole Gang has been a thorn in the side of the authorities for years." Heyes gave a lopsided smirk. "'Course not as much as they used to be but an irritation all the same."

"Hey!" Wheat protested.

Heyes winced and nodded at him. "You kinda are, Wheat. All those little jobs all over the place."

Wheat grumbled and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Finally, he nodded in acquiescence.

"If you explain what's happened to the rest of the Gang, Lom, I'm sure the Governor will consider Wheat for amnesty. Especially if ... ." Heyes licked his lips. "You tell him that Wheat has a law-abiding job all lined up."

"I do?" Wheat looked at Heyes with a frown.

Heyes nodded. "Possibly." He didn't want to be drawn on the details right now. He hadn't fully made up his mind yet. "That's gotta be a good thing. Right?" He looked at Lom eagerly, wide-eyed.

Lom looked doubtful. He flicked his eyes back and forth between the two men.

"Amos Barber is only an Acting Governor, Heyes. I dunno how much authority he thinks he has. Granting amnesty is discretionary and he's not long in office. I think the chances of him doing anything controversial like this is zero. "

"Won't know until you ask," Heyes said, hopefully. "No harm in asking is there?" Then seeing Lom was still wavering. "Are you gonna make me beg?" he snapped.

"Not you, no," Lom growled, not looking at Heyes. He was looking hard at Wheat instead. "I think I wanna hear Wheat ask," he said, ominously quietly.

Heyes swallowed and looked at Wheat. This just may be a step too far. He knew how proud a man Wheat was.

Wheat shifted in his chair. "Well I … ." He cleared his throat. "Reckon … I'd be obliged sheriff if ya would … y'know see ya way clear to … having a word with this Governor. On … on my behalf like. Ya'll be doin' me a favour an' I'd owe ya. If there's anythin' I can do for ya in the future you jus' let me know." Wheat couldn't manage to look Lom in the eye while he spoke but he did for a second when he'd finished.

Lom sighed and looked back at Heyes. "You reckon he's gotta a job? Working for you?"

Heyes licked his lips, aware that Wheat was looking at him intently. "Possibly," he started, slowly. "If … the Governor will give him amnesty. Or at least gives him the same deal me and the Kid had."

Lom rubbed his cheek as he considered.

"Ya'd do it?" he snapped at Wheat. "Work for Heyes? Keep ya nose clean? Don't drop HIM in a mess of trouble?" He pointed a finger at Heyes.

"Well I's reckon … I could try." Wheat looked at both men and saw both of them wanted more than that. "Well if'n Heyes here would look out for me, stop me from … y'know getting inta trouble, keep me on the straight an' narrow like, I reckon'll it'd work." He shrugged. "Sure why not?"

Heyes rolled his eyes before looking back at Lom.

"This isn't a game Wheat. If I do this … go into bat for ya with the Governor, ya'd better mean it. 'Cos if ya don't … then I'll lock ya up an' be glad to do it. An' I reckon Heyes here will help me."

Wheat looked at them and nodded. "I knows ya will. Both of yous." He swallowed hard and frowned. "I'm grateful for the chance, Lom … er Sheriff Trevors."

Lom looked at Heyes, who nodded.

"Alright," Lom sighed. "I'll go an' see the Governor. Like ya say it never hurts to ask."

Heyes grinned. Wheat looked relieved.

"When can you go?" Heyes asked eagerly.

Lom growled. "Well I gotta finish this paperwork so … I guess I can go this afternoon, fix up an appointment, for tomorrow." He looked from one to the other. "In the meantime, I'm holding YOU … ." He pointed at Heyes. "Responsible for HIM." He pointed at Wheat. "You stay outta my town and you stay outta trouble. Make sure he does, Heyes."

Heyes and Wheat got to their feet.

Heyes nodded. "I will. Thanks Lom."

"Yeah, thanks Sheriff."

Lom waved a hand. "Go on get outta here. I'll be back tomorrow night or early the day after."

As Heyes closed the door behind him, Wheat turned to him. "What's this here job ya were talkin' 'bout, Heyes?"

Heyes frowned and slapped him on the shoulder. "Shhh! I'm Joshua remember?" he said, quietly as he ushered Wheat along the boardwalk.

"Oh, yeah sorry. I forgot."

"Yeah, well if you work for me you'd better not!" Heyes growled, grabbing Wheat's arm and pulling him into an alley.

Wheat waited while Heyes took a last furtive look round. Turning to the bigger man, Heyes hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and let his tongue explore the inside of his mouth as he considered Wheat.

"What's up?" Wheat frowned.

"Can you do it, Wheat? Really?" he snapped.

"Ya asking me that now? After I done give that sheriff my word!" Wheat was indignant.

Heyes sniffed, the look on his face telling Wheat he might not have believed his word. Wheat drew himself up.

"I gave my word, Hey … Joshua. That means somethin'," he said, indignantly.

"Ye..ah," Heyes said, slowly. "It means something alright."

"Now what do that mean?" Wheat demanded.

Heyes licked his lips. "It means yeah you gave your word." He sighed. "Whether you can keep it is another matter. If I give you a job …" A slim index finger poked Wheat hard in the shoulder. "You had better not let me down." Heyes growled and winced, tight-lipped. He realised he had just told Wheat he had a job. Something he still wasn't decided on.

"Heyes …" Wheat winced. "When have I ever let ya down?" he asked, innocently. "Joshua?" he added for good measure.

"Ha!" Heyes laughed, humorously. So many ways! But now was not the time to list them. "Listen, Lom wants you outta town until he gets back. Go get our horses from the livery and meet me outside The Hardware Store. You and me are gonna ride over to Salt River. There's something there I want to show you."

"What?"

"We'll discuss it on the way. We might be a night or two. Depending. We'll stop and tell Mary on the way."

In Salt River, Heyes and Wheat spent two days at the store Heyes had just leased for his new store. They cleared out most of the fittings from the previous tenant, smashed through a wall out back to create more stock room space and set about repainting. New shop fittings would arrive the following week and Heyes was satisfied that everything would be ready.

"Thanks, Wheat. You've been a big help," Heyes said, slapping Wheat on the shoulder and giving him a tight-lipped smile.

"S'right, Heyes. Glad to help. Takes my mind off … well y'know takes my mind off … a lot of things."

"Yeah," Heyes nodded.

"Say ya still ain't told me what you wanted to show me."

"We'll er talk 'bout it on the way back."

Heyes had made up his mind. He'd give Wheat a chance. The big man had worked hard for him over the last two days. He didn't mind admitting that it was good to spend time with Wheat again. He was surprised to realise that Wheat did know what he was thinking. That he did understand him. All the bluster and clashing of egos that had marked their time together in Devil's Hole was gone. Well, not entirely but it would, give it time. Especially if Heyes had anything to do with it. He was beginning to think of Wheat as a "project".

Heyes and Wheat rode back towards Porterville in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"This sure is pretty country," Wheat remarked suddenly. The silence had gotton to him and he wanted the distraction of talking.

"Yes. I think so too. I like it here."

"Y'know Heyes you've sure got a good life these days."

"Yep. I sure have," Heyes smiled, pleasantly, dimples cracked slightly. "All thanks to the amnesty y'know."

"Ya ever figure out why Hoyt gave you ya amnesty? I thought he was jus' stringin' ya along."

"I can't deny I thought that too, Wheat. It sure felt like it at the time. A year he said, then it was two, then it was "I'll see". Kid an' me were seriously considering going to South America."

"What stopped ya?"

"Aw," Heyes considered. "Can't speak South American for one," he grinned briefly. "And we needed a stake to live off which we didn't have." He sniffed. "And we like living … here. There was a whole host of reasons Wheat. Somehow we just couldn't bring ourselves to go." He smiled. "While we were still pontificating, the amnesty came through."

"Seems strange that he would jus' up an' gives it to ya, just like that."

"Yep," Heyes nodded. "I thought so too until I got to thinking 'bout it." He smacked his lips. "Then I thought 'bout the timing. He signed the papers in mid July. He left office towards the end of that August but he wanted it kept quiet 'till the end of the year. Went off to live in California for a little bit but I think he was hedging his bets. 'Cos he returned to Wyoming in September of that year and do y'know what?"

Heyes looked smug. Wheat frowned then shook his head. "That supposed to mean somethin'?"

"Sure does. He became the first President of the University of Wyoming."

"So?"

"Remember the Merchant's Bank in Denver, Wheat?"

Wheat blinked at the complete change of subject. "Ye-ah," he said, doubtfully. Then grinned. "That was the one where you were there all night and came away empty handed." He chortled. "The one you couldn't crack."

Heyes scowled at being reminded. "Yes but … we DID go back and I DID open it. Remember how?"

Wheat pursed his lips as he thought. "That the one ya blew? With nitro?"

"That's the one."

Wheat shook his head and Heyes grinned. "Someone called Nial H Benshaye … wrote a scientific paper 'bout how I done it. Said what an ingenious, clever and sophisticated method I used." Heyes bit his bottom lip and nodded, wide-eyed at Wheat.

"It was involved I'll give ya that," Wheat muttered, disgruntled.

"Ex-Governor of Wyoming John Hoyt is a Professor of Chemistry, Wheat. He saw it. He was impressed. THAT's why the Kid and me got the amnesty when we did. Figured two men with those kinda smarts and who had been trying to stay outta trouble oughta get a second chance." Heyes sniffed. "That an' the possibility if he carried on saying no we might jus' try something even more spectacular. Might jus' backfire on him if word got out that he'd promised us an amnesty but hadn't followed through. Guess he decided that GIVING us amnesty was the lesser of two evils."

Wheat looked disbelievingly at him. "You telling me Heyes that you and the Kid got amnesty 'cos of some paper printed in some high falutin' book?"

Heyes smiled smugly. "Yep."

"Sheesh!"

Wheat shook his head. "An' here ya are running a hardware store." He said it bitterly. "Ain't what I figured you for at all. I mean sheesh Heyes. Hardware." Wheat chortled and shook his head.

Heyes shrugged. "Folks always need hardware, Wheat. Especially the way towns are growing. New people coming in, new businesses opening up. Lots of building work going on. It's not like it used to be Wheat. These aren't frontier towns anymore. We're getting civilised."

Wheat sighed. Heyes detected a note of regret and looked across at him.

"Something wrong, Wheat?"

"Naw!" he denied, a little too quickly and then growled when Heyes kept his eyes on him. "Passing me by, Heyes. I guess I don't feel too … comfortable with it." He sighed again and twitched his head. "Perhaps … perhaps if Kyle …" He didn't finish and looked away.

Heyes nodded in sympathy. The past two days had taken Wheat's mind off thinking about Kyle but it was still raw. It would be for some time to come. Heyes took a deep breath. Here goes. Before he could speak, Wheat did.

"I dunno 'bout this amnesty, Heyes." He shook his head. "I mean, Trevors is right. Outlawing is all I've ever done. I don't reckon I've got a chance. Nothing to recommend me like you an' the Kid had. That Governor … Barber is it? He's gonna take one look at my record and …"

"Now Wheat, we don't know what he said yet. Lom is good negotiator. He talked Hoyt into the amnesty deal for the Kid and me. That wasn't easy. He was highly sceptical. That's why if we'd screwed up it was Lom's head on the block."

Wheat grunted, non-committedly. "Don't figure Trevors will go that far for me," he muttered.

"Besides you've got something the Kid and me didn't have," Heyes went on, ignoring him.

"What's that?"

"Well …" Heyes swallowed. "Friends who are behind you, giving you support. You're not on your own. The Kid and me were and it was hard."

"You had each other."

"Yeah, that's true but sometimes it would have been nice to be able to talk to somebody else about it. Somebody who understood what we were going through." Heyes cast a sideways glance at Wheat. "It's only natural you're feeling a little fragile right now. Your life's been turned upside down in more ways than one. It's a big adjustment. Y'know me, Wheat. I'm not gonna sugar coat it. It'll be tough but I don't believe you have zero chance."

Wheat growled and looked away. It was a moment before he spoke and when he did, he couldn't face Heyes. Heyes had to lean forward in the saddle so he could hear.

"It's not that I don't appreciate what ya trying to do, Heyes. I'm just wandering if I'm worth ya bother that's all."

"Awh, Wheat, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Heyes said, more harshly than he intended. He licked his lips and continued in a softer voice. "You've got a lot to offer. You just don't know it 'cos it's never come up before that's all."

"Like what?"

Yeah he had to go and ask THAT question. Heyes rolled his eyes skyward as he thought.

"Well … you've done a lot of living …" Wheat's snort of derision interrupted. "Hear me out, will you? You're nobody's fool Wheat. You know what's what 'cos you've been there. You just have to apply what you know to the situation you find yourself in. Some things will be unfamiliar but you just have to take a step back before you go jumping in."

"Be more like you, y'mean?"

Heyes smiled. "Naw! Don't want the competition."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Wheat's face.

"Just think 'bout what I said, huh?"

Wheat nodded and Heyes left it there. The two continued on their way in silence.

"How are your letters and numbers, Wheat?" Heyes asked suddenly, jolting Wheat out of his thoughts.

Wheat frowned at him. "I know 'em. Y'know I know 'em."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah, but how well d'you know 'em? Ever read a book? Newspaper?"

Wheat grunted. "Well I can't say I read a lot. Books! Why they're for folks with too much time on their hands! That's what …" He broke off when he saw the look Heyes was giving him. "I guess they have their place and no I don't read books. Not that there's anythin' wrong with folks who do." He added the last bit quickly just in case. Had he got away with it?

Heyes looked away smiling.

"Would you improve 'em if you needed to?"

"I've got along jus' fine up to now. Why would I need to?"

Heyes chewed his lip. "You might have to if you had a job where reading, writing and adding numbers was a part of it."

Wheat stopped his horse. "What ya trying to say, Heyes?"

Heyes stopped too and looked at him. "I need a manager in the Salt River store. How'd you feel 'bout that if I offered it to you?"

Wheat looked stunned. He had figured that Heyes just might find him something but not that.

"Sheesh! Heyes. I think that's beyond me." He started his horse forward, shaking his head.

Heyes shrugged and followed. "Well it was just a thought. I mean you've gotta do something when you get amnesty and I did kinda tell Lom I had a job for you. You wanna make me out to be a liar?"

"If, Heyes. The word is if."

Heyes rolled his eyes and nodded his head from side to side, accepting the correction.

"Okay, if." He paused. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all but it was too late to back out now. He had made the offer and he needed an answer "Just give it some thought huh?" He paused and grinned. "'Specially, IF you get amnesty or at least the promise of one?"

If Wheat was chewing on an answer, he didn't get a chance to give it voice. Heyes' horse, which had been skittish for a while, suddenly reared up. It pranced back a few steps.

"Whoa, easy fella," Heyes said, patting the horse's neck reassuringly. His eyes scanned the ground in front looking for danger. Whatever had spooked the horse, Heyes couldn't see what it was. Then the horse reared again. Something was really frightening it. "Easy! Easy!" But the horse was wide eyed in fear and prancing back and side to side. Suddenly the horse took off in a flat out run. Heyes sawed on the reins but to no avail. "Whoa!"

The rapid injection of speed took Heyes unawares. He slipped in the saddle, couldn't right himself before the horse veered around a boulder. The sudden change of direction did for him. He was off. Yet his right foot failed to slip out of its stirrup and he found himself bouncing along the ground, arms flailing wildly.

All too aware that a similar accident had so recently killed Kyle, Wheat took off after the spooked horse.

Heyes was under the horse and desperately trying to avoid two pairs of galloping hooves. He was yelling, further terrifying the poor creature. He could do nothing to stop it as he flipped, rolled and bumped along. Caught in the stirrup, his right foot, twisted this way and that, shrieking in protest. His flailing right arm hit a rock. Intense pain. Ribs collided with the hard ground, knocking the wind from him. Hooves struck him a glancing blow to his cheek. A myriad of thoughts went through his mind, none of them good. The thought foremost in his mind; he was gonna die!

Author's note

John Wesley Hoyt was Governor of the Territory of Wyoming between 1878 – 1882

Before appointed Governor, he had been Professor of Chemistry at Antioch College and had founded the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Art and Letters, becoming its first president. During his tenure of Governor of Wyoming, he founded and presided over a similar organisation in that state. He later became the first president of the newly formed University of Wyoming.

Although Amos Barber was elected Secretary of State in 1890, his term was interrupted when Francis Warren, resigned as Governor of the newly constituted State of Wyoming. Barber served as Acting Governor between 1890 – 1893.


	3. Chapter 3

Settling Wheat – Part Three – (Waiting)

Mercifully, for Heyes, the leather soon broke on the stirrup. He and the horse parted company, and he avoided a trampling by a hair's breadth. He lay on his front, only vaguely aware that his world had stopped spinning and all was still. Wheat pulled up beside him and dismounted in a leap. Leaving his horse to fend for itself – he knew it wouldn't stray too far - he only briefly looked at the spooked horse galloping away.

Finding itself free of the irritation of dragging something along, that horse slowed and came to a snorting stop. It gave itself a shake, put it's head down and began to graze.

"Sheesh!" Wheat started, growled and turned his attention back to the motionless Heyes.

Wheat leaning over him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Heyes!" If Heyes had been more aware, he would have been flattered by the panic in Wheat's voice. "Heyes!"

Instead, Heyes just groaned. Wheat swallowed the lump in his throat. At least a groan meant he was alive.

"Heyes, you alright?"

With surprising gentleness, Wheat rolled Heyes over. Heyes cried out as Wheat pulled on the arm that hurt so much. Heyes opened his eyes and lay on his back, panting hard. Adrenaline still coursed through his body. He looked wide-eyed up at Wheat who leaned over him anxiously.

"Heyes?"

Wheat looked down at the man who used to be his boss and who soon might be again. His clothes were dirty and torn, his left cheek was bloody, he was holding his right arm protectively and he was looking up at Wheat, uncomprehending what he was seeing.

"Heyes?"

"Yeah?"

Wheat smiled. Not that pretty a sight.

"Are you alright?"

"No," Heyes groaned. "I … don't know."

"Can you sit up?"

"Dunno. Am I all here?"

Wheat grinned. "Yeah, you're all here, Heyes."

"Good, 'cos it sure don't feel like it."

"Here, I'll help ya." Wheat went to touch Heyes' arm but the sharp intake of breath told him to make other plans. Instead, he eased him into a sitting position by the shoulders and held him there as he swayed.

"There. How's that?"

"I think I've busted my arm," Heyes gasped. He cradled it against his body and groaned again. "Ow! Ribs too by the feel of it. Ow! Sheesh! That was some ride."

Wheat nodded. "Yeah, looked pretty exciting to me."

Heyes let out a gasped laugh. "Wouldn't recommend it."

"Oh here. Ya smashed ya face up too." Wheat removed his bandana, padded it up and pressed it to Heyes' cheek.

"Ow!"

"Hold it there while I gets some water to clean ya up a bit."

Wheat turned and went back to his horse. Heyes' horse had returned to be with it's fellow equine and both were grazing peacefully a few yards away, without a care as to what had just happened. Wheat took the opportunity to secure both horses. He returned with a canteen and a cloth that didn't look too clean. Heyes was beyond caring. He hurt too much.

Wheat started to clean up the wound on Heyes' cheek.

"Well ya still bleedin' but it don't look too bad. Don't reckon ya'll need stitches but I hope that wife of your'n ain't too squeamish. I reckon ya'll have a nice scar."

Heyes glared at him. "Thanks Wheat." For cleaning him up? Or for saying he'd have a scar?

"How d'ya feel now?"

"Sick."

"D'ya think ya can get up?"

"Wheat, I dunno," Heyes gasped. "Could you …" He swallowed hard and fumbled for the canteen. He tilted his head back to drink but the sudden movement caused the world to spin. He groaned and swayed. Wheat took the canteen from him before he dropped it. Then Heyes lurched sideways and retched. Wheat wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

Heyes pushed himself up right when he had finished and wiped his mouth on the back of his left hand.

"Wheat could you undo my bandana and try and make a sling? For my arm?"

Wheat handed Heyes the canteen. This time he took a smaller sip and spat it out, trying to get rid of the horrid taste in his mouth. Wheat unknotted the bandana and carefully they fashioned a sling to cradle the injured arm.

"D'ya think ya can get up now?" Wheat asked when done.

Heyes just looked at him, panting in pain. "I dunno, Wheat," he gasped. "I don't know what hurts and what doesn't right now."

Wheat smiled. Again not a pretty sight. This time Heyes found the strength to smile back, albeit faintly.

"Guess I look a sight, huh?"

"Well I've seen ya look better, Heyes. C'mon I'll help ya up. Ya can't sit here all day. Times a wastin'."

"When did you get so bossy?" He sighed. "Yeah okay."

With a lot of groaning and crying out, not just from Heyes, Wheat helped him to his feet. As Heyes put his weight on his right foot, he yelled, jerked it back up and doubled over. Where he stayed, balancing precariously on one foot. He had found out the hard way he couldn't put weight on his right foot. The whole of that leg from the knee down, felt like it was on fire. Hardly surprising considering the punishment it had taken, he reasoned. His other leg felt sore and wobbly but no broken bones. After a moment he tried to straighten up, he yelled. He would have fallen if Wheat hadn't been there to steady him. He remained doubled up.

"Wheat, we'll never get me on a horse like this," he gasped at the ground. "Don't reckon I'll be able to ride anyway. You'll have to leave me."

"Well Heyes, I dunno …"

"You'll have to! Go get help Wheat. There's no way I can ride. Leave me under those trees." He gestured vaguely in the direction of a small group of trees, a few yards away. "I'll be fine."

Wheat looked doubtful but he helped a hobbling Heyes over to the trees. He could just about use the heel of his right foot to struggle along but it was difficult and he was leaning most of his weight on Wheat. It took them a while to lower Heyes gingerly to the ground, his back resting against a tree. Heyes felt down his right leg. He didn't think it was broken. He took that as a good sign. Although he had a suspicion that his knee would be a problem later.

Wheat retrieved Heyes' jacket from his horse and picked his hat up from the ground. He walked back, slapping it against his leg.

"I think Porterville's nearer Wheat."

"Okay."

Wheat placed Heyes' hat on his head and draped his jacket round his shoulders, careful of his injured arm.

"Leave me a canteen."

"Sure." Wheat placed a canteen by his side.

"Anything else?"

"No. Jus' … hurry."

Wheat nodded and turned away. He wasn't too happy about leaving Heyes. It would be dark in a couple of hours and he wasn't sure he could get to Porterville and back with help before then.

"Hey, Wheat."

Wheat looked back.

"Leave me your gun."

Wheat looked shocked. "Ya ain't hurt that bad!"

Heyes found the energy to smile. "No. It'll be dark afore you get back. Just in case some wild animal comes sniffing around."

Wheat looked relieved and then a little foolish that he had thought what he had.

"Oh yeah. Sure."

He took his gun out of its holster and dropped it by Heyes' left side.

"Thanks."

"Sure ya'll be alright?"

"No choice. I'll be here when you get back."

Heyes watched Wheat mount up and ride off.

"That's the wrong way!" Heyes slapped his good hand over his eyes. "Sheesh! I'm gonna die out here after all."

Sighing, he closed his eyes and rested his head back against the tree. A moment later, he heard a horse thunder passed in the opposite direction. Heyes nodded and smacked his lips.

"That's better."

He tried to concentrate on a part of his body that didn't hurt. He wasn't sure there was one. He was pretty sure even his hair hurt. Yet somehow, he manage to fall into a restless doze.

Wheat rode into Porterville just as it was getting dark. He'd taken a wrong turn on the trail and had to double back, adding several extra miles and costing him an hour. Out of habit, his eyes flicked from side to side, looking to see if there were any familiar faces. He had no idea where the doctor's office was located so he came to a stop outside the jail.

Lom might be back from Cheyenne by now. He might have news for him. But that wasn't why he was here. He had to get help for Heyes. A glance up told him the darkening of the sky wasn't just night falling. Rain was on its way too. He took a deep breath and walked into the office.

The young deputy looked up and frowned.

"Help you?"

"Yeah, is the sheriff about?"

"Not right now. Is there a problem?"

Wheat rubbed his chin. "Then I'm looking for the doc. Just got in from Salt River and the man I was travelling with had an accident on the road. Came off his horse. Hurt pretty bad."

"Oh, um, doubt if you'll get the doc afore the morning. He's gone to a birthing."

Wheat sniffed. "Is the sheriff back from Cheyenne yet? He's a friend and he'll wanna help go get him."

Deputy Bart frowned. He knew he wasn't supposed to give out the sheriff's whereabouts and certainly not to someone he didn't know. And this man looked kind of familiar. The sort of familiar that brought to mind something he had read not so long ago. In his profession, it paid to keep up with events in the world and Deputy Bart prided himself on being professional.

"Ye-ah he's back," he started slowly.

"So where is he?" Wheat demanded, looming over the sitting deputy.

"Er … can't tell you that."

"Dammit man! There's a man hurt out there! I need Lom to help me go get him."

Deputy Bart swallowed nervously as Wheat leaned over the desk.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you where Lom … I mean Sheriff Trevors is," Bart said. "It's policy. I'm not allowed to divulge the whereabouts of the … lawfully elected sheriff when … he is off duty," Bart said, hoping he was remembering the exact wording of the policy. "And that's what he is right now. Off duty." Bart blinked and stammered. "I'm in charge," he added, lamely.

"Yeah? You wanna be in charge if his friend dies!" Wheat said, drawing the spare gun he always kept in his saddlebags and pointing it at Bart.

Bart swallowed audibly. With more bravery than he felt, Bart eyed the business end of the Colt .45. Yet his hands, not feeling quite so brave, slowly raised themselves.

"Threatening me … isn't gonna … make me tell you where …"

At that moment, the man of the moment walked in. Seeing Bart held up, Lom drew his gun.

"What's going on here?" he demanded. Then he realised the man doing the holding up was Wheat. "What ya doing, Carlson?"

"It's Heyes. He's hurt bad. Had to leave him on the trail. I was jus' trying to get … this here … ." He waved his gun in Bart's direction. Bart looked wide-eyed and gulped. "Deputy," Wheat spat, making his feelings known about the occupation and the man doing it. "To tell me where you're at. We's gotta go get him. Now!"

"Well, jus' hold on now! Put that thing away afore ya hurt someone!"

Wheat holstered the gun he forgot he held. Bart let out an audible sigh of relief.

"I didn't tell him sheriff! He came in-'bout-two-minutes-ago-wanting-the-doc-first-then-asked-for you. I wasn't gonna tell, I swear," he cried, words rolling into one and desperate for Lom to understand.

"Alright, Bart. It's okay. You did good." Lom put a reassuringly hand on the younger man. "I know this man. He's a friend of Joshua's." Lom still held his gun and he turned to Wheat. "Where'd ya leave him?"

"'Bout … ten miles up the road to Salt River, I reckon. Lom, he's hurt real bad. He couldn't ride. He made me leave him there an' come an' get help for him."

Lom was still considering whether he believed him and if so what to do about it, when Mary burst in.

"Lom! Thank goodness you're here. Janet said you had come back. It's Josh …!"

Mary was distraught and Lom took her arm, holstering his gun as he did so.

"Mary, what's wrong?"

"Josh …" Mary swallowed hard and caught her breath. "He telegrammed me this morning to tell me that he'd be home by four … Something is wrong, I know it is." She stopped when she saw Wheat. "What are YOU doing here? What have you done with my husband?" she demanded, shrugging off Lom's hand and advancing on Wheat.

Wheat took an involuntary step back.

"Um," he began. He wasn't liking the dangerous glint in her eye.

Mary directed all her worry and concern at him. She wasn't about to be reasonable. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Behind her, Lom grinned ruefully. Wheat Carlson in fear of his life was something to see.

"Where's Josh?" she cried. Wheat was supposed to be with her husband but he wasn't. He was here. Alone.

"His horse threw him, ma'am. Dragged him a fair bit. I came to get help," Wheat explained and then seeing her horrified face. "But he's okay ma'am. Busted an arm and a few ribs. Got a cut …" He felt his cheek.

"Busted an arm! And a few ribs! And you left him!" Mary shrilled. "How could you?"

Before Lom could stop her, Mary slapped Wheat hard. Wheat blinked in surprise and backed away. And she kept slapping him and punching him, giving vent to all her worry onto Wheat. Lom pulled her back just as a foot shot out aimed at Wheat's shins. Hell hard no fury like a woman's … something or other, Wheat thought as he backed into the desk. He had taken a fighter's protective stance and only lowered his arms when he was sure Lom had hold of her.

Bart sat open-mouthed, eyes wide and fearful that she would turn on him. He had never seen a lady milliner so enraged before.

"Mary! Enough now!" Lom had to be his best tough lawman. "We'll go get him. He'll … he'll be fine," Lom said, struggling with her. He shook her gently until she calmed.

She rounded on Lom. "Then I'm coming too!"

"Mary … ," Lom started. "The weather is …your kids … ."

"Try and stop me! We can get him in the buggy. It's right outside." With that, she turned and stalked out. Lom and Wheat swapped glances. Wheat rubbed his shoulder and winced.

"Ole Heyes sure has his work cut out with her," he muttered.

"Show us where he is huh?" Lom snapped.

"I ain't sitting in the buggy with her. That's a crazy woman," Wheat grumbled, as he followed Lom.

"She's worried about her husband, Wheat. I'll drive the buggy. You lead the way. Now c'mon. Afore she goes without us!"

Lom grabbed Wheat's arm and roughly steered him through the door.

It took Bart a while to get over the shock. When he had, he got to thinking about what had taken place and what had been said. What had Sheriff Trevors called the man? Carlton? Carson? No! Carlson. Bart recognised the name. So Lom knew him. He was also a friend of … oh! Friend of Joshua's?

Bart got up quickly and went to the filing cabinet where he knew he'd find the wanted posters. Sheriff Trevors was orderly and they were in alphabetical order. Bart flicked through the C's and there. Right there in front of him. Wheat Carlson. Yep and the description was good. This was the man who had just held him up. And who had just walked out with the sheriff. Now what would Sheriff Trevors be doing with a wanted outlaw and not arresting him? Bart frowned and read the flyer again. Mmmm, Devil's Hole Gang.

Bart took it back to the desk, sat down and rubbed his chin as he puzzled over it. Then it came to him. It was common knowledge that Sheriff Trevors had briefly ridden with an outlaw gang for a time in his younger days. Now which one was it? Bart wracked his brain. He got up and poured himself a coffee. He sipped it slowly as he pondered some more. He knew he wasn't the brightest lawman in the posse but he had his moments. And he had a moment right then. Could … Sheriff Trevors had ridden with the Devil's Hole Gang?

Bart sat down. There was another puzzle. Sheriff Trevors had said Carlson was a friend of Joshua's. So how would Joshua Smith, the popular Hardware Store owner, know a man like Wheat Carlson? Joshua and his friend, whose name escaped him, had appeared in Porterville a number of years ago, friends of … Oh! Friends of the sheriff. Bart snatched up the wanted poster of Wheat again. Devil's Hole Gang! Synonymous with … Oh! Oh! Oh!

Bart dashed back to the filing cabinet. This time he looked in the bottom drawer where he knew he would find posters for outlaws confirmed dead or captured. It was all coming back to him to him now. There had been two posters in an envelope tucked away at the back. Yet the next time he had looked for them they had gone. Now they were here again.

With trembling hands, Bart pulled the folded posters from the envelope. He had never really looked in detail at them before. Now he stared at them, open-mouthed. No! He couldn't be. Bart let out a moan. Oh, but it all fitted. Carlson had said … Heyes! Hell! No! Joshua couldn't be Hannibal Heyes! There was no way! Joshua was a nice, law-abiding, popular, businessman and devoted family man. He couldn't be … one of the most successful outlaws that ever rampaged through the West!

Bart swallowed hard. His hand shook as he stared at the poster. It wasn't helping any. Although out of date of course, the description matched. He glanced at the other poster. The description on there, matched … . It came to him in a flash. His name had been Jones. Thaddeus Jones. He had worked in the livery. Smith and Jones. Bart went cold and he let out another groan.

He collapsed into his chair, wondering what he should do. Then he remembered. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had been given amnesty a few years back by the then Governor. Neither of them were wanted anymore. It was even rumoured that Kid Curry had gone back East to live and … Jones had gone to … Boston. Bart sat with his head in his hands.

So that was it. Hannibal Heyes had been living here for …? How many years? Quite a few years, anyway. Living amongst honest, decent, hardworking men and women. How dare he? Bart frowned. He like Joshua. He always smiled and said hallo. Asked after Bart's wife and baby. And he had his own wife and family. HIS wife was the daughter of the previous sheriff! Did she know who he was? Bart gulped. Did Luke Fletcher know who his son-in-law was? Bart groaned and dropped his forehead to the desk. Oh, this was all too much!

Wheat was right about the rain. Heyes woke to the sound of heavy drops bouncing off the foliage above him. It was almost dark. He was cold and he pulled his jacket around him. He looked up and received a cold drop right in the eye. He jerked away, rubbing at his eye.

"Ow!"

He blinked the cold water away and cradled his arm. He was uncomfortable. The ground was hard. The tree behind him was pressing into his back. It was dark and cold now it was raining. And he hurt. Boy did he hurt.

"Well if it doesn't get any worse …" he muttered to himself, just as the rain increased and started to find its way more forcefully through the branches above. "Great! I sure jinxed that!" He groaned. "What's the time?" He fumbled with his good hand for his pocket watch, skilfully flipped it open and peered at the dial. There was barely enough light but he thought he made out the time. "Where's Wheat? He should be back by now!"

He pressed his hat more firmly to his head and tugged his jacket round him again. He pulled up his knees and discovered the right was swollen and wouldn't bend. He gave it a tentative feel. Not good. He sighed and leant back against the tree, presenting a forlorn figure. A few minutes later, he looked even more forlorn when the heavens opened and dumped gallons upon gallons of cold, wet water on him.

"AWH! C'MON! GIVE ME A BREAK!" he yelled at the sky, then wished he hadn't as he doubled over from the pain in his ribs. As if in answer lightening flashed, almost blinding him. There was nothing for it. He just had to sit tight and hope that help came soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Settling Wheat – Part Four – (News)

"How much further, Wheat?" Lom yelled as the downpour started. Wheat stopped his horse and waited for the buggy carrying Lom and Mary.

"T'aint much further, I reckon."

"Ya said that, ten minutes ago!"

"Yeah well it's dark and I don't know the road. He's here somewhere!"

Conversation over, Wheat started his horse forward. He was beginning to worry that he'd missed the spot. If they got all the way to Salt River … No, they hadn't, he told himself. They'd ridden quite a way out of Salt River and Heyes had told him Porterville was nearer. C'mon Heyes where are ya?

They found Heyes a short while later. He was soaked and shivering. Mary flew out of the buggy to him.

"Josh!" Mary was on her knees by his side, heedless of the mud and rain on her clothes. Her concern was her husband.

"Mary, …"

She tilted his head up in concern. Her warm hands on his cold face felt good.

"Thank goodness we found you." By the light of the buggy lamp, she could see his cut face. "Ooh!"

"It looks worse than it is," he murmured. "It's okay, Mary." He turned a relieved face up to the two men who walked up behind her. "Hey, am I glad to see you. The novelty of sitting here wore off 'bout three hours ago."

"We got here as fast as we could," Lom said, glancing at Wheat.

Lom crouched by Heyes. He did a quick assessment of the injuries for himself causing Heyes to hiss in pain. He didn't like the look of the right leg.

Giving Lom room to work, Mary stood up next to Wheat. Her hands flying to her face when she heard her husband's moans. She was grateful when Wheat crept a little closer.

"We got 'im, ma'am. He'll be alright now ya see," he said, reassuringly but keeping his distance all the same. He didn't trust her to turn on him again.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Heyes, d'you reckon you can stand up? If we help you?" Lom asked.

"Well can't sit here all night. Let's give it a whirl," Heyes said, rolling his eyes at the thought of what it might cost him in terms of pain.

"Get his good arm, Wheat."

It look the three of them to get Heyes up. Wheat and Lom either side, Mary behind making sure he didn't fall back. Once on his feet, only the heel of his right foot was in contact with the ground. Heyes groaned. "Dizzy!" Wheat and Lom steadied him until the spinning stopped. "Yeah, okay."

It was a slow painful walk across to the buggy. Heyes stood looking at it, calling up the courage to climb into the thing.

"This is gonna hurt!"

Mary climbed in the back on the other side and prepared to receive him next to her.

"Joshua, let's get you home and into a nice warm bed. I made your favourite blueberry pie and there's a piece with your name on it."

Heyes smiled weakly. "Warm bed sounds nice. You can keep your pie."

Mary smiled. Blueberry pie was NOT his favourite. He suffered it because the children liked it. When he was irritated he could put aside his physical comfort. She hoped it would give him the extra spur he needed to get into the buggy. Such was the nature of their relationship.

Heyes cried out once as he struggled in and eased himself onto the seat next to Mary with a groan. Mary draped a blanket round him and snuggled him next to her.

"Thank you," he said, as his head, dropped to her shoulder in relief. His hand felt for hers and he squeezed it.

"Soon be home."

"Yeah."

Wheat tied Heyes' horse to the back and they set off with him in the lead. The journey back was slow. Every rut in the road seemed to cause Heyes pain as they bounced over it. Lom tried going slower but as the rain increased, they got wetter, despite the awning over them.

"Jus' get me home, Lom," Heyes gasped, finally. "I can't get any wetter!"

Lom glanced back at Mary and she nodded. Lom turned back and flicked the reins to encourage the horse into a fast but bone-shaking trot.

It was to all their relief when they turned into the drive of Amnesty.

"Where are the children?" Heyes asked, as Lom and Wheat helped him into the hall.

"With Janet."

"Good. Don't want 'em to see me like this," he groaned, leaning against the study doorway.

"I'll go see if I can round up the doc." Lom said. "Will ya be alright, Mary?" He looked pointedly at Wheat.

"I'll be fine. Wheat will stay with me. Won't you Wheat?"

"Er … yes ma'am. Of course ma'am." Wheat looked like he had something nasty in his mouth. The thought of being alone with this crazy woman …

Wheat shot Lom a look that said, hurry up.

Lom grinned briefly. "I'll be as quick as I can. I'll take Heyes' horse."

Mary turned from lighting the lamps. Now there was light she could really see in what state Heyes was.

"I don't suppose there's any chance of getting you upstairs is there?"

He shook his head. His eyes were closing as he leant against the doorway. He was breathing in short quick breathes, his skin was pale and he was sweating. "Wheat, I don't think I can move." He groaned. "Sheesh! It hurts!" With that, he began to slide down the wall. Wheat caught him, before his legs buckled. Yet he still landed on the floor with a thud and a jolt that made him grunt in pain.

"Heyes, you stay with us now," Wheat slapped the uninjured cheek. A little too hard from Mary's point of view. "Ma'am, go make some coffee."

"Coffee!"

"Yes ma'am. I seen this afore. He's cold and going into shock. He's got a powerful urge to sleep and we shouldn't let me 'till the doc gets here."

Mary looked at her husband, slumped semi-conscious on the floor. She felt helpless. Wheat's serious face persuaded her. She had no doubt he had seen this before. Especially in his line of work. Being all too aware of the amount of scars on his body, she briefly, wondered how many times it had been Joshua he'd seen like this.

"Not too hot, ma'am. I want 'im to drink it."

Mary nodded and went.

Wheat turned back to Heyes and pinched his uninjured cheek.

"Ow!"

"Ya gotta stay awake Heyes."

"Yeah well you don't have to pinch me! I hurt enough already!"

Wheat grinned as Heyes blinked hard.

"Thanks for coming back for me Wheat," Heyes said, quietly.

"Had to. Ya had my gun."

Heyes looked at him, smiling faintly.

"It cost me thirty dollars. Had perfect balance and feel. Weren't giving that up easy."

Heyes nodded. "Yeah. Say Wheat?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really uncomfortable down here. Wanna get me a chair? There's a good one in the study here."

"Sure."

Wheat found one of the wingback chairs that they had sat in the other night. When he came back, he found Heyes had his eyes shut.

"Heyes!" He pinched his cheek again. "Keep awake will ya!"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm awake," he said, eyes still closed. Then with a great effort, he opened them and looked round. "Where's Mary?"

"Making some coffee."

Heyes grunted.

"I got the chair."

"Oh."

"D'ya wanna try sitting in it?"

Heyes looked up at Wheat and then back at the chair. He swallowed hard. From his perspective, there in the floor, it looked like a mountain to climb.

"Might need some help," he admitted.

"Yeah well I reckon ya would. C'mon, let's get ya up."

Wheat hauled Heyes to his feet, with a lot of cursing and groaning from both of them. Heyes seemed to weigh thirty pounds heavier than he had earlier. Mary came running at the noise and was just in time to see Heyes collapsing into the chair.

"He's more comfortable now," Wheat explained. "Got that coffee yet, ma'am? Running outta things to chat to him about."

Bart looked up as Lom came in.

"Everything alright Bart?"

"Yes sheriff. Did you get him? Get … Joshua?" He didn't know if he wanted confirmation just yet that Joshua Smith was really Hannibal Heyes. He'd work up to it. With a bit of luck he might not even get there. They may be another explanation. What that could be he had no idea.

"Yeah we got him. Just came to get the doc. He's over at the Fischer place, just finishing up. I'll ride with him back to Amnesty when he's done."

Bart nodded, absently. Lom could tell by the way Bart was playing with the pencil, that something was wrong. He frowned.

"Shook ya up did it? What happened earlier?"

"Yeah, a bit. He was real menacing."

Lom smiled. "Oh he ain't so bad. Once ya get to know him."

"You … know him then, sheriff?" Bart tried to be casual but it came out sounding suspicious. Which it was.

Lom nodded. "Yeah a bit. He's more a friend of Joshua's."

Bart stiffened.

"What's that ya got there, Bart?" Lom asked slowly seeing a wanted poster on the desk in front of Bart.

"Um, I er … did some thinking after … you'd gone and I er … think I know who that man was." Bart licked his lips, picked up the poster, turned it round so Lom could see.

It was Lom's turn to stiffen. He nodded.

"Yep. That's him alright," he admitted.

There was an awkward silence. Lom figured he owed Bart something. "He's asked the Governor for amnesty. That's where I've been Bart. In Cheyenne. Seeing the Governor for him."

Bart nodded. "So do you reckon the Governor will give him amnesty? Like the Governor a while back gave … ." Bart looked down at the paper under his hand, hesitated and then slowly turned up another poster and showed Lom. "Him?" He held up a third. "And … him?"

Lom pursed his lips and shrugged. "Why not? They were much bigger crooks."

"D'you think Carlson knows where they are now?"

"Dunno. And I ain't gonna ask him. Wherever they are, they're free men. They should be left in peace."

Bart nodded, thoughtfully.

"D'you think … sheriff, that they could be living amongst folks who don't know who they are?" he asked, slowly

Lom narrowed his eyes. He didn't like where this was headed. "Possibly I suppose."

"Under another name? Say …"

"Bart." Lom leaned on the desk and close to Bart, causing him to draw back a little. "There'll only be a few people who know where those two are and you ain't one of them." He said it firmly and clearly. "Wherever they are, it's a secret." He picked the two out of date posters from Bart's hand. "Got it?"

Lom looked at Bart intently until Bart nodded. Lom stood up, glancing at the posters.

"And it's not our secret so I don't wanna hear you running your mouth off in the saloon," he said, slowly. "Leave it be. Y'hear?"

Bart was in no doubt about a lot of things. So Joshua really was Hannibal Heyes. Sheriff Trevors knew and was fine with it. And Bart would be in big trouble if word got out and it lead back to him. "Yes sheriff. I understand."

"Good. Now I should of done this a long time ago." He struck a match, dropped the posters in the wire waste bin and followed then with the lit match.

Both of them watched as the paper flared and burnt.

"Put that one back where ya got it from." Lom tapped Wheat's poster and he gave a rueful smirk. "Y'ya never know. We might need it afore the year's out."

Bart nodded and got up to do that thing as the doctor came in.

"Ready sheriff?"

Lom and Doctor Ben Albright, a man in his early forties, rode out to Amnesty. The coffee had perked Heyes up and he was remarkably chipper, sitting in the hall chatting. His sopping outer clothes were gone and Mary had wrapped blankets round him and over his legs. Mary sat on the floor by his feet, her hand on his left knee and Wheat had dragged the other wingback chair from the study.

Heyes took a deep breath when he saw Ben. He was a regular visitor to Amnesty as Harry was the sort of boy who often got into scrapes that required medical attention. As a result, Ben and his wife had become friends. Even though Heyes knew he would be in good hands, he wasn't going to enjoy the next little while. So it proved. An initial examination followed by the news he had been expecting.

"I'm not too happy with the right leg and I need to set that arm, Joshua."

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, I figured you would."

"Mary is there a bed downstairs?"

"There's the chaise longue in the study."

"No. I can make the stairs if I take it slow. I'd rather be in my own bed when you …" Heyes gulped. "Do what you gotta do." He looked round at four doubtful faces. "I can do it." Then more irritably. "Just help me upstairs will you!"

Lom and Wheat exchanged looks, puffed at each other, rolled their eyes and then came forward to help the injured man. It was a slow process. Heyes had to stop several times to catch his breath. Eventually he was upstairs and sitting on the edge of his bed, looking pale and shaky.

"Doubt if we'll get the shirt and Henley off the usual way. Probably best to cut them off," Ben suggested.

"I'll get some scissors." Mary smiled and smoothed Heyes' uninjured cheek as she went.

"Probably gonna need you fellas in a minute." Seeing Wheat sidling towards the door. "Both of you."

"Oh yeah sure Doc. I was just gonna see if Mary needed any help …"

"Fetching scissors?" Lom grinned. Wheat glared at him.

"Wheat's squeamish, Lom," Heyes said and winced. "Can't say I'm looking forward to it either."

"I'll be as quick as I can you know that Joshua."

"Yeah I know."

When Mary came back, she didn't hand over the scissors.

"I think Joshua would prefer it if I did this," she said. "Alone," she added meaningfully.

The three men hesitated. Mary flicked them away. Heyes widen his eyes; he hadn't considered it. The men hesitated.

"Ya might need some help, Ma'am," Wheat said.

"I have undressed my husband before, Wheat," she told him, firmly.

Wheat reddened. Lom and Ben swopped rueful grins. Heyes chortled and then winced when it hurt.

"Let us know when you're done, Mary. We'll be right outside."

Outside, Lom motioned with his head to Wheat to join him further down the landing. He kept his voice low.

"I've got some news from the Capitol. The Governor is prepared to give you the same deal his predecessor gave Heyes and the Kid. If you stay outta trouble for a year he'll grant you an amnesty."

Wheat didn't say anything for a moment. He was shocked. "Amnesty? Me? Hell! That's … ." He smoothed his moustache and then chortled. "That's … real good news, Lom."

"Yes it is. If … you can do it."

Wheat nodded and sniffed. "I'm gonna give it a damm good try. Heyes asked me to be manager at his Salt River store."

"Did he ask you that before or after he came off his horse?"

"Before!"

Lom looked doubtful and then growled. "Well if Heyes is prepared to stick his neck out for ya … prepared to risk his business for ya … his livelihood … his security and that of his family … he's putting an awful lot of trust in ya, Wheat. Don't screw up. You'll have me to answer to an' I'll be watching."

"I knows Lom. I knows." Wheat looked embarrassed but he held Lom's gaze.

Slowly Lom offered his hand. "Congratulations, Wheat."

When Mary called Ben back in, Heyes was looking embarrassed. Mary had cut his long johns off as well and he was naked under the covers. Whether she had done it deliberately slowly, he didn't know. Either way, despite the pain he was in, he had found it strangely … er well … let's just say there was an unexpected stirring. Mary had deigned to comment but she had smiled knowingly at him.

"Let's see what we're dealing with," Ben said, ignoring the body language of both husband and wife.

Heyes was relieved that Ben was starting at the top. Although miraculously Heyes hadn't lost consciousness throughout his ordeal, Ben still wanted to check that there was no concussion. He was satisfied that there wasn't. He declared that the cut on his cheek, once cleaned up, didn't require stitches. Ben then set to work his way down Heyes' body dealing with the most obvious and serious first. Heyes was bruising up all over and yes, he had broken two ribs on his left side. All Ben could do was bind them up; they would heal on their own, providing his patient took it easy. The swollen right knee caused him to roll his eyes.

Turning to Mary, he sent her for ice. When she had gone, Ben winced as he looked at the sole of that foot.

"Ah! I thought so."

"What's up?" Heyes asked and then yelled as Ben felt his toes. He was glad Mary was out of the room. That hurt!

Ben ignored him and smiled.

"They're warm that's good."

"Yeah but …"

"Lisfranc. Common enough injury considering what happened to you."

"Oh, good, a common injury. Means you can treat it right?" Heyes said, irritably.

Ben laughed. "Yes I can treat it but you won't be walking on this foot for quite a few weeks."

Heyes dropped his head back with a groan. "What's wrong with it?"

"Well you may have broken the bones in the arch of your foot." He picked up the foot carefully, supporting the heel and looked at the sole again. "Too heavily bruised and swollen to tell right now." He smiled pleasantly. "You weren't planning on going anywhere for a while were you?"

Heyes groaned.

"Now let's have a look for at your other injuries. I must say Joshua, you're almost a whole medical book by yourself."

"Great," Heyes muttered, smacking his lips.

He cleaned the other cuts and gashes, previously concealed by clothes.

Mary returned with the ice, wrapped in a cloth. Ben applied it to the swollen knee. Heyes hissed in pain and the coldness of it but nodded accepting it was necessary.

Heyes and Ben eyed each other warily. There was still one more thing left to do.

"I can give you some laudanum, dull the pain a little but I need you awake."

Heyes nodded and then shook his head.

"No I don't like that stuff, maybe later. Let's just do it and get it over with."

Ben nodded and called Lom and Wheat back into the bedroom.

Stretched out in bed, Heyes looking pale and apprehensive.

"He doesn't want anything for the pain and this is going to hurt. I'd like you two to hold him steady. Mary I don't think you ought to stay for this part."

Mary opened her mouth to protest.

"No." Heyes said it quietly but all turned to look at the man in the bed. Two of the men took a step back as they recognised the look on that man's face. That was his Hannibal Heyes, fearsome outlaw leader, look.

"Oh but …"

"Mary!" Heyes was sharp. "Please … ."

Mary looked at her husband. Now was not the time to argue with him. Her shoulders slumped. She knew he didn't want her to see him in pain. Reluctantly she nodded.

When she had gone, Heyes nodded. "Okay doc let's do this."

Ben nodded at Wheat and Lom to take up position either side of Heyes.

"It's been a while since the break and you're still a little chilly. This may take longer than usual."

"JUST DO IT!"

Heyes gritted his teeth as Ben took hold of his arm at the wrist.

"Lom hold his upper arm firmly, Wheat is it? His opposite shoulder."

"The thing I find best in this situation is to start off slowly," Ben said, conversationally as he started to pull. "That gives the muscles time to stretch gently." Heyes gave a grunt of pain and started to breath rapidly. He put his other hand to his ribs.

"Sheesh!" he gasped. He licked his lips and felt his eyes moisten as Ben continued to pull, harder now. Wheat and Lom struggled against him as the pulling became even harder. Heyes let out a yell.

"Nearly there," Ben said. All of them heard the bone snap together. "There. Now I can't let go yet, Joshua. Lom don't let go either but can you hand me the splints?"

"Sheesh!" Heyes, passed caring that he had tears running down his cheeks, gasped. "Jus' hurry up!" He looked wide-eyed.

It was several more minutes before the arm was in a splint and could be lowered gently to the bed.

"All done, Joshua. You did very well," Ben smiled. "Some of my patients nearly deafen me. Some pass out."

Heyes false smiled at him. "Yeah. I'll wear my badge with pride Doc." He swallowed as the pain slowly receded. "Sheesh!" He looked up at Lom and Wheat. "Thanks fellas."

Two nods answered him.

"Want some laudanum now?"

Heyes hesitated and then nodded, reluctantly. Heyes grimaced as he drank it.

"I'll leave you to sleep now, Joshua," Ben said, as he packed up his things. "I'll be back to check on you tomorrow."

"Thanks Ben. Mary?"

"Yeah, I'll send her in." Ushering the others in front him he left. Mary dashed in before the door shut.

"Josh!"

"I'm fine, Mary." All the excitement over, Heyes was feeling drowsy. "I just need to sleep."

"Yes of course," she smiled, her eyes watering. She smoothed back his hair. "I don't think I'm ever going to let you out of my sight again, Joshua Smith."

Heyes smiled. "That'll be nice … ." His eyes closed rapidly, his head tilted to one side. He was asleep.

Mary smiled and straightened the bedcovers.


	5. Chapter 5

Settling Wheat – Part Five - Visitor

Heyes slept for 36 hours straight. Dr Albright looked in on him but Heyes didn't wake. The boys ran up and down the landing laughing before being told to shush. Heyes didn't wake. Mary fussed around him, feeling his forehead to see if he was hot, straightening the bedcovers, checking his bandages. Heyes didn't wake. A bird singing loudly in the tree outside his window, however … Heyes woke with a groan.

"Do you have to be so cheerful?" he said, grumpily.

He tried to move, to sit up. Nope, that hurt. Not doing that.

He lay still, listening to the sounds of the house. Mary talking furiously to one of the boys. Harry. He smiled ruefully. Of course, it was Harry. That boy was trouble with a capital T. Had been since _before_ he was born. Then he heard Susan saying something. Man she could talk when she wanted – a constant chatterer. He wondered where she got _that_ from? He raised his eyebrows, waiting. Then … ah yes squealer! Billy was a boy of few words – yet.

He wondered what the time was. Mid-morning he guessed by the light coming in the window. But what day was it? He felt as though he had slept for a long time. Probably for the best. He had been in bad shape when they brought him home.

"Damm fool Heyes! Falling off your horse like that," he shook his head at himself. "Great, now you're gonna be laid up for a while."

Even so it was nice just laying here doing nothing. Not that he could do very much. Every time he did some part of him hurt. He let his mind wander. He lay staring at the ceiling, thinking about what happened to make him hurt so much. He could have been more injured than he was. He was lucky to be alive. He knew that. If Wheat hadn't been there … He didn't allow his mind to take him there.

"Yeah, now I owe you my life."

Heyes tried again to sit up. Nope. Still hurt. He fell back with a sigh as the door opened.

Mary came in carrying clean clothes and started to put them away. She didn't notice at first that he was awake. He watched her with a smile and then gave a small cough. When she turned from the wardrobe, she started and his smile widened.

"Oh, you're awake!"

"Yeah, haven't been for long," he said as she came over to the bed. His voice sounded, croaky and rough, through lack of use.

"How do you feel?" she asked, with concern and smoothed his hair back. She sat on the side of the bed.

He considered. "Not sure. Okay I suppose. If I don't move too much."

"You're not supposed to move too much. Ben wasn't sure if you had any internal injuries. He's given me strict instructions to make sure you stay lying down."

"How long for?"

"Until sees you next and he says it's okay."

"That's a bit vague isn't it?"

"He's coming this afternoon. I'm sure when he looks at you, he'll be able to give you a better estimate."

Heyes grunted.

"Are you in pain?"

Heyes rolled his eyes. Of course, he was in pain but he bit off the retort before it started. "I ache all over but it's bearable," he sighed, wanting to play it down. "How do I look?"

"Awful."

"Thank you."

"Unshaven, bloody, unwashed, smelly," Mary smiled. "But lucky to be alive." She swallowed hard and tenderly touched his uninjured cheek. "Wheat told me what happened. If you'd been alone …"

Heyes fumbled for her hand and squeezed it. "But I wasn't," he said, firmly. "Can I have some water please?" he asked, wanting to distract her from that topic of conversation.

"Yes of course."

Mary moved for the jug of water, filled a glass and then supported his neck so he could drink.

"Thank you."

She returned to sit on the bed again and took his hand.

"I was so frightened Josh," she admitted. "When I saw Wheat in Lom's office … all the way in the buggy I kept thinking …"

"Mary, don't … . If I'd gone to Salt River by myself I woulda gone by train. We _had_ to ride."

"Why …?"

Heyes sighed. "Because the Devil's Hole Gang robbed that line more'n once. Wheat … is still a wanted man. He coulda been recognised." He looked at her hard until she nodded. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Wheat saved my life, Mary. Stopping my horse. Riding to get help." Heyes swallowed. "I owe him."

Mary nodded. "We both do." She brushed his matted hair back. "He's told me you've asked him to be manager of the Salt River store."

"Ye-ah. I did before this happened." Heyes widened his eyes and rolled them. "It's a gamble. I know that." Then he remembered. "Hey! Is there any news from the Capitol?"

"Yes. The Governor has offered Wheat the same deal Jed and you had."

"Keep outta trouble for a year and he'll see?"

Mary nodded and got up. "I should leave you to sleep some more. You look tired."

"Really? How long was I asleep before?"

Mary smiled. "A day and a half."

Heyes' eyes widened. "Wow! Don't think I've ever slept that long in one go in my entire life!"

"You needed it. And it wasn't entirely all your idea. Ben gave you some laudanum."

"Oh yeah," he nodded, remembering. "He did."

"He's left me some if you want it?"

"No. I don't like that stuff – makes me drowsy."

"And is that a bad thing in your state?"

"Probably not but I think I can sleep some more without it."

Mary nodded. "Okay."

She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

"I'll make sure the children don't disturb you."

"What have you told them?"

"Just that Pappy had an accident and needs to sleep for a good long while." Mary grinned. "Wheat has been looking after them," she told him with aplomb.

Heyes looked at her wide-eyed. "Wheat … has been looking after the children? MY children?" He growled when she nodded.

"Yes. He's surprisingly good with them. Billy wasn't too sure at first but he and Harry were soon climbing all over him. Wheat appears to be loving it."

Heyes winced. "Yeah, I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mary," he said, slowly. "Wheat tends to pack all sorts of dangerous weapons about his person."

"And I made him hand them all over to me. I have a very odd selection of things in my kitchen drawer right now."

Heyes still looked doubtful. Then realising there was nothing he could do about it right now he waved his hand in the air and sighed, smacking his lips.

"You can check them over later after Ben has been."

"Okay," he sighed, resigned that Wheat … WHEAT was looking after his children.

Mary went to the door. She turned as she remembered. "Oh! By the way. I spoke to Jed. He'll be here the day after tomorrow." She started to close the door.

"What …? MARY! Owh!" Heyes fell back gasping. He winced, put a hand to his chest as she walked back to the bed. "What d'you mean? You … you spoke to him!" He was astonished.

"Yes," Mary said, smugly. "I went to the Town Hall and asked to use their telephone. I said it was an emergency. They helped me find the right number and dial. Make the right connection."

"What … ?"

"It's really very good. It's almost like he's in the room with you. Except of course, you can't see him. And he can't see you. We should consider getting one. It'll be nice to speak … ."

"Back up!" He squeezed her hand hard to stop her talking. "Why did you … telephone ..." He smacked his lips. "The Kid?"

"Because I thought he ought to know. That you've had an accident and that you're hurt. He was getting the train yesterday afternoon."

"He didn't need to do that. It's a long way …"

"What about your business? Ted and Russ can't manage the Porterville store on their own yet. And someone needs to take care of the setting up in Salt River. Somebody you trust. Wheat can help but …"

"I'll be up in a day or two."

"Oh no you won't."

"Oh yes I will," Heyes said, pre-empting pantomime as we know it by several decades.

"Ben says this might be a long haul."

Heyes groaned. "I've a busted arm is all!"

"No that's not all. Ben is concerned about your right foot and lower leg. If you haven't broken bones then you've got ligament damage for sure. And if that wasn't all. You've broken two ribs. That should slow you up, if nothing will." She pulled up the sheet. "And you're going to go some lovely colours before this is out. Look!"

Heyes looked. Above and below the binding round his chest, he could see flowering bruises and nasty looking scrapes. "Yeah," he sighed. He smacked his lips in defeat. "Okay. I'll stay put until Ben has seen me. See what he says. How does that sound?" he said, sourly.

Mary looked doubtful. "Better." She got up. "I'll leave you to sleep if there's nothing else?"

"Yeah there is." He twitched his finger at her and smiled mischievously. "How 'bout a kiss for a poorly boy?"

The kiss she gave him made him moan for an entirely different reason than his hurting places. He kept her close. "Thank you for coming to get me," he whispered, keeping her close.

Mary smiled. "If I hadn't … what do I know about hardware?"

He grunted a grin and then winced. "Yeah, I knew there was a reason you kept me around."

"Now." Mary straightened the bed. "Go to sleep."

"Yes ma'am."

Ben came late in the afternoon. He smiled when he saw Heyes was awake.

"Ah! Good you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Better than the other night."

"Mary said you slept all the way through until this morning."

"Apparently."

"Sleep is good for you. Nature does most of the repair work when we're asleep."

Heyes nodding. "How much longer will I have to stay in bed?" Then seeing the look of doubt on Ben's face added. "Can I sit up at least?"

Ben pursed his lips, thoughtfully. "Let's examine you properly and then we'll talk about it a bit more."

Heyes rolled his eyes but submitted to a thorough and painful examination. At the end of it, Heyes felt as though he'd been pummelled all over again but he knew it was necessary. Ben had to determine if the injuries he could see where the only ones.

"You're lucky, Joshua," he said, fastening his shirt cuffs. "I think you'll be bruised and stiff for a good while but I don't think you have any internal injuries."

"Great. Does that mean I can sit up now?"

"Yes I should think so. Let me get Mary and we'll help you."

Heyes growled at the implication that he needed help but waited patiently for Ben to come back with Mary.

"Slowly," Ben cautioned as they started to raise him. "He's likely to get a little dizzy, having been lying down for so long."

Heyes groaned as they pulled him up. Mary quickly arranged pillows behind him before they leant him back.

"There how does that feel?" Ben frowned in concern.

Heyes blinked. "Um, feel a little light headed."

"It'll pass in a moment. Here have some water." Ben handed him a glass of water. Heyes sipped at it gratefully. Who knew just sitting up would be so exhausting?

"Hmmm," said Mary.

The two men looked at her.

"Something wrong, Mary?" Ben asked.

"He's got nothing on," she mouthed.

"Ah!" Ben smiled.

Despite himself, Heyes reddened.

"What does he normally wear in bed?"

It was Mary's turn to redden. "Er …. He doesn't … er … well all of the time …. Er … Long johns and Henley?" she forced out as a question, wincing. Heyes widened his eyes and rolled them. She took a deep breath. "I'll have to find him a nightshirt," she smiled at Ben, brightly. "Yes." She was determined. "That's what I'll do. I'll go find him a nightshirt!"

She fled the room, leaving Ben and Heyes looking at each other uncomfortably.

"She's worried about the children seeing this," Heyes winced in explanation and nodding at the splint on his arm. "It might scare 'em."

Ben nodded, trying not to smirk. Heyes and Mary's marriage had been a true love match and even after eight years it was apparent to the town that it was still so.

"I take it I can see them?" Heyes asked when Ben didn't say anything.

"Oh, yes, yes. So long as they treat you gently," he said, knowing how boisterous young children could be.

After Ben had gone, Mary was back. She held up a white nightshirt triumphantly.

"Look what I found! Do you like it?"

Heyes looked at it with distaste. He pursed his lips and tilted his head this way and that in consideration.

"Not my colour," he declared finally.

Mary sniffed in disgust and flung it over his legs.

"Well you're going to have to wear something. You're not decent." He opened his mouth to speak but she went on, picking it back up. "And look the sleeves are wide enough to go over the splint. Come on." She gathered up the neck, preparing to help him on with it.

"This ain't mine!" It dropped over his head and he frowned in irritation. Mary had his uninjured arm folded back and was attempting to thread it through the sleeve. He growled. He felt like a child. "Who's is it?"

"It's Papa's. He left it here at Christmas and I've been meaning to give it back to him."

Heyes growled.

"He won't mind. Can you lift this arm?"

Heyes sighed and grimaced as he raised his injured arm. He winced as Mary threaded his arm and splint into the nightshirt. Then she pushed him forward and pulled it down at the back.

"There!" she smiled when he was resting back against the pillows again, a disgusted look on his face. She started to button him up, glanced at him and wisely deciding not to go all the way to his throat. "Much better. Hmmm. Might get you one of your own." She smirked, mischievously.

"I am not wearing a nightshirt in bed," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Oh but you seem to be." She got up quickly. "I'll get you washed up and then you can see the children."

Heyes gave her the look. "Yeah," he growled and watched her walk to the door. "Mary?"

She looked back.

"D'you always flirt with your patients?" he smiled faintly. Mary beamed back. "No. Just the ones I'm married to."

Heyes nodded as she closed the door. Perhaps being stuck in bed wasn't going to be so bad after all. He knew why she was doing it and he was grateful, in more ways than one. He viewed being helpless and injured as an unmanly thing. Mary was just reminding him that she still loved and desired him. Mary's flirting would be fun!

The children visited briefly. Excited to see their father they bounced too much on the bed and were far too noisy for the injured man to endure for very long. With regret on both sides, Mary had to call a halt and usher them out again.

When she came back, she brought Wheat with her. Wheat looked nervous.

"I'll leave you two alone. Not too long please. Joshua needs to rest. The children rather tired him out."

"Yes ma'am they do that," Wheat grinned ruefully as she left. He turned to Heyes. "So, hows ya doing?"

"Not too bad. Considering." It was awkward between them.

"Well ya look a lot better than the last time I seen ya."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah, I guess I couldn't look much worse." He searched for something to say. He had a lot to say but didn't know how to begin. "Did er … did Mary tell you that the Kid's coming?"

"Yeah, yeah it'll be nice to see ole Kid agin." Wheat cleared his throat. "Now that he's all citified."

"He acclimatises real well."

"Huh?"

"Gets back into western ways."

"Ah! Is he … does he … y'know?" Wheat motioned pulling a gun out of a holster.

"No. Don't think he even practices these days. Um, folks back East know who he is, Wheat. Call him Jed Curry but here … he's still Thaddeus. Remember that Wheat, huh? 'Cos of me. I'm not ready to have it known too widely yet that I'm Hannibal Heyes."

Wheat rubbed his chin and nodded. "Bit confusin'."

"Yeah, but that's the way it's gotta be." Heyes smiled. "Mary tells me that the Governor has given you the same deal me and the Kid had."

Wheat nodded slowly. "Yeah, how 'bout that huh?"

"So er … you best think 'bout what we call you."

"Huh?"

"Can't call you Wheat Carlson." By the look on Wheat's face, Heyes realised that Wheat hadn't considered that. "Best think of a new name, Wheat."

"Yeah. Hmmm. Right then. I'd er … best go an' do that," he said, sidling to the door.

"Wheat."

"Huh?"

"You saved my life, Wheat. Thank you."

Wheat grinned. "Ah! T'weren't nothin'. 'Sides ya'd offered me a job. Had to make sure ya'd be around to make good on it, didn't I?"

Heyes smirked despite himself. "Yeah you did. So … are you gonna do it?"

"Well …" Wheat swallowed hard. "As ya asked an' I ain't got nuttin' else on at the moment, sure. I'll give it a go." He shrugged, looking everywhere but at Heyes.

"Thanks Wheat." Wheat made for the door. "Oh Wheat?"

Wheat looked back.

"What have you been telling my children?"

Wheat shrugged. "Nuttin' much. Jus' a few entertaining stories 'bout how life was in the Gang y'know. I didn't let on they were true. They're jus' stories, Heyes."

Heyes looked doubtful. "Yeah just remember they are children. Leave out the blood and gore, huh?"

"Hmmm," Wheat frowned. "Ya sure? Your boy Harry seems to like …"

"I don't care! No blood and gore! And watch your language too. Harry is very impressionable. The last thing I need right now is a small boy cussing like an ornery …." Heyes waved his hand as he tried to think of a word but gave up. "Alright?"

Wheat nodded and fled. Heyes leant his head back and sighed. No doubt that wouldn't be the end of it. His children, especially Harry, were going to be corrupted and there was nothing he could do about it.

Heyes was happy to stay in bed for the rest of that day. He thought about trying to shuffle to the edge and throwing his legs over. Then he sighed. He realised that would be too painful right now. The next morning however, Heyes decided that as the Kid was due to arrive that afternoon he _would_ try and get up. He got as far as the side of the bed before Mary caught him. Which was just as well as he suddenly had no idea how he was going to get any further.

"Oh no you don't, Mr Heyes! You get back into that bed right now." She stood arms akimbo.

"Mary, I've got things to do," he protested. He tried to grope his way to his feet. Not easy when his right leg had no intention of bending. The room whirled. "Oh!" He bounced back onto the bed. "Perhaps you're right. Owh!"

"Come on. In you pop," Mary said, patiently holding back the bedcovers.

Heyes fixed her with a glare. He hesitated, sighed and swung his legs back with difficult. He tried not to wince and grunt. To preserve his modesty he grabbed at the hem of the nightshirt and tugged it down. Nightshirts were tricky things. He settled back against the pillows, submitting to her ministrations.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" he asked, irritably. "You're gonna treat me like one of the children?" He was trying to be angry but failing miserably. Mary knew it and smiled knowingly as she straightened the bed.

"Well if you will behave like a child …"

He growled. "I've got a business to run."

"So have I. Hats don't sell themselves you know." She sat on the edge of the bed. "But I've decided that looking after you is more important. The least you can do is let me."

Heyes grunted. "What time is the Kid arriving?"

"He telegrammed from Cheyenne. He'll be on the 2:30 train. I'll go and pick them up." She straightened the bedcovers as she spoke, ignoring Heyes' irritated expression at her fussing.

"Them?"

"He's bringing his valet," she mouthed.

"Ha!" Heyes burst out and then put his hand to his chest. He knew that was the Kid's life now. He had been to Boston and seen the magnificent splendour he lived in. Met the beautiful heiress wife the Kid had run out on him to marry. Played with the two boys, the younger one the same age as his Billy. How the Kid's life had changed. Heyes shook his head. "What's his name?"

Mary looked blank.

"He was okay, I seem to recall. For an Englishman. Have we got room?"

"He can have the box room. John is clearing it out now." John was their liveryman-cum-gardener. He lived above the stables at the end of the drive.

"Ha! That's a job and a half. We've been here less than two years. How have we managed to accumulate so much STUFF?"

"We had children," Mary said, simply.

"Yeah," Heyes sighed and rested his head back against the pillow. "Stuff," he said, wistfully. "I came to Porterville with everything I owned in just a saddlebag."

Mary stroked his cheek and smiled. "You look tired."

"I'm not tired, Mary! I'm fed up!" he snapped. He groaned. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not a very good patient."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head, sadly. "No. Just feeling sorry for myself." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Perhaps I need a kiss?"

The kiss had all the signs of turning into something a little more passionate. Heyes grinned at her mischievously. "Well something still works …"

"Now who's flirting?" Mary sat back and looked at him. "Stay in bed today and let's see how you are tomorrow. Jed'll be able to help you get up."

Heyes nodded. "Okay."

At two thirty, Mary was standing on the platform. The train was late and the one before had been cancelled. As the train pulled in, there were more people waiting to meet it than usual. The platform was crowded and a hive of activity, as everyone was hurrying, greeting friends and relatives, cases unloading and loading – hopefully not the same ones! And the noise! She was a country girl and this sort of hubbub was more suited to bigger towns and cities. She found it quite unsettling.

She was also anxious. Although the Heyes family had spent Christmas in Boston a few years ago before Billy was born she didn't know Jed well. Her memories of him when he first came to Porterville with Josh all those years ago were sketchy at best. Perhaps she wouldn't recognise him. Perhaps he hadn't caught this train in the end.

As the throng started to clear, he caught sight of a man. For a moment, he could have been her husband. Same height, build and hair colouring. The only difference his clothes were obviously in the eastern style, a long dark coat and a derby hat. He was supervising the unloading of cases. Then she heard his voice.

"Yes, and the small brown valise. Yes that one at the back. No. To the left. No your other left. That's it," said an English voice. "Thank you."

Mary smiled to herself. That must be Jed's "man". So where was Jed? She turned and stopped. The train was about to depart and getting up steam. A cloud enveloped the platform. When it cleared, stepping down from the train as it began to move, was a man dressed in an expensively tailored three-piece suit of dark grey. Over his arm he carried an outer coat. His shoes were the finest tooled leather. Under his bespoke derby, his hair hinted at blond and curly. He carried a briefcase and he was looking in the opposite direction. Everything about him spoke of wealth and privilege. However, when he scanned back round, Mary could see that his eyes were blue. Then as his face broke into a broad grin, there was no mistake. Jed "Kid" Curry had arrived in Porterville.


	6. Chapter 6

Settling Wheat – Part Six – Further Complications

"Mary!"

The Kid hurried over to her, put down his briefcase and kissed her politely on the cheek. As he did so, she smelt expensive cologne.

"Hallo. I thought for a moment you had missed the train."

"No, no. I've learnt to let all the pushing and shoving get outta the way first. Then I can get off all calm and unhurried," he nodded, with a smile. He took a step back and looked at her. "Mary, you're looking well."

"So are you." She gestured to his clothes.

He laughed. "Travelled first class most of the way so had to look the part. Can't wait to get into something a little less … conspicuous." He paused. "Well, how is he?"

"Grumpy."

"Ah! Expected nothing less," the Kid laughed. "Does he know I'm coming?"

"Yes I thought it better. I don't think now is the time to upset him. You know how he hates surprises. He's badly hurt but he won't admit it of course. He keeps trying to get up but he doesn't get very far."

"Well we'll just have to see about that won't we?" He looked round as he felt somebody standing behind him. "Oh, d'you remember Cowdry?" he asked, introducing the man she had seen earlier collecting the luggage. Now Mary could see his face he did resemble Heyes slightly.

"Good afternoon, Mrs … Smith." Cowdry glanced at the Kid, who nodded. Cowdry smiled glad to get it right. The Kid had told him that Mr Heyes was Mr Smith in this part of the country.

Mary nodded and smiled.

"And as you can see, I have luggage," the Kid rolled his eyes, indicating the pile of cases on a trolley. The porter stood leaning on it, hand on hip, legs crossed, waiting to push it somewhere.

Mary raised an eyebrow.

"Caroline insisted. By the sounds of it, I could be here a while. She couldn't bear the thought that I might have to do without something." The Kid shuddered. "How she thought I managed all those years with everything I owned in just a saddlebag I don't know."

Mary smiled. Heyes had said something similar just recently.

The Kid offered his arm, which Mary took and they began to walk down the platform. The Kid nodded at Cowdry to follow them. He in turned nodded his head at the porter. "Y'say Wheat's here?"

"Yes. Quite a gathering of the old Gang isn't it?"

"Kyle here too?"

Mary stiffened. With all that had happened, somehow telling the Kid that piece of news was overlooked. She wasn't sure that it was down to her to tell him either.

"No. Not this time."

"Oh," the Kid frowned at her. Something was wrong but he wasn't sure what. He decided that perhaps it would wait.

The Kid shook hands with Wheat. "How ya doing … Walter?"

"Huh?" Wheat blinked in surprise but the Kid was turning away.

"Cowdry, this is an old friend of mine, Walter Brown."

Cowdry wasn't sure about Mr Brown. He looked … but then of course he knew exactly who Mr Curry was so why should he be surprised? Cowdry smiled and nodded.

"Mr Brown" was frowning hard. Yeah, Heyes had told him to think of a name to call himself and he was giving it some thought. Wheat had been leaning towards something exotic and distinctive – not Walter Brown! He scowled hard at the Kid, who smiled pleasantly before grunting when the children leapt on him.

"Hey! One at a time." He swept Susan into his arms and gave her a kiss. "How's my favourite niece then?"

"I'm very well thank you, Uncle Thaddeus. How are you?"

"Much better for seeing you, darlin'," he laughed and set her on her feet. He turned his attention to Harry who was hitting him to get his attention. "Howdy partner. Still causing trouble?"

Harry grinned. "Yep. Just like you told me."

Mary rolled her eyes and gave the Kid a hard look. "Oh, so it's you I have to blame is it?"

The Kid and Harry, now in the Kid's arms, grinned at her. Mary shook her head in despair. The Kid gave Harry a quick kiss and put him down, before turning to Billy. Unlike the other two Heyes children, Billy was the most like his father in colouring. He was also the quietest. That wasn't just his age. The Kid could recognise the thoughtfulness and intelligence behind the boy's eyes. He had seen it in his father too many times. While Harry and Susan were going to make Heyes pull his hair out in frustration at their impetuousness, Billy would bring a different set of problems. The Kid smiled down at the solemn dark haired little boy, looking up at him unsure.

"Hey, Billy."

Billy grinned and ran away. The Kid was surprised as Mary that it was Wheat, Billy went to stand behind and not her.

The Kid widened his eyes at Wheat, who sniffed.

"Me an' Bill are partners," he said in explanation.

There was an awkwardness for a moment, before Mary laughed. "Come on in, Jed. You must be thirsty. You too, Mr Cowdry. John will put the luggage in the hall and the two of you can take it all up later."

"Yes madam."

"Oh no!" Mary rounded on him. "I'm not a Madam, Mr Cowdry! It's Mrs Heyes or when we're in town, Mrs Smith but I am NOT a madam."

Cowdry gulped and shook his head.

"And I can't call you MISTER Cowdry. What's your first name?"

"Er …" Cowdry looked at the Kid, who nodded. "It's Paul."

"Very well," Mary nodded. "Come on in. I'll make some coffee. Or would you prefer tea, Paul?"

"Tea would be very nice, ma … Mrs Heyes. Thank you."

"Tea it is. I think I'll join you. And then you …" She prodded the Kid in the shoulder. "Can go and see Grumpy Bear."

The Kid swopped glances with Wheat. "Grumpy Bear?" he mouthed.

"Heyes. The Little Missy called him that. On account he's a mite grumpy and bearlike," Wheat shrugged innocently. "Fair description if you asks me," he added with a sniff.

The Kid laughed, slapped Wheat on the shoulder and followed the others inside. "Oh, Heyes is definitely gonna live up to that name when he finds out."

"So Heyes, I come all this way and I find you lazing about in bed." The Kid stood arms akimbo looking down at his old friend.

Mary had given Heyes a bed bath that morning despite his assertion that he could do it himself. She had swiped his hand away easily and continued, knowing he was as weak as a kitten. Afterwards, he had to admit – only to himself – that he felt better for being cleaner. Probably looked better too. He had suffered her shaving him as well and was relieved to find that he had survived unbloodied.

"Ha! With that sorta attitude you can go back where you came from," Heyes replied, grumpily.

"How are ya?" the Kid asked, ignoring him.

Heyes growled. "Okay, I suppose. Be glad to get out of bed." He coughed.

"How long ya gotta stay there?"

Heyes growled. "Aw, the doc … and Mary … wanna keep me here for good they way they're both carrying on. Ain't gonna happen," he said, determinedly. Then he sighed and winced. "Tried to get up this morning. Didn't get too far," he admitted. "Try again tomorrow."

"You had a pretty bad accident, Heyes. Ya can't rush it. You ain't getting any younger!"

Heyes gave him the look. "Yeah, thanks for that."

The Kid smiled. Although they didn't meet too often these days when they did they quickly managed to fall back into their previous easy relationship.

"You didn't have to come all this way, Kid." The Kid started to protest. "But I'm glad you did," Heyes went on.

"You're gonna need some help for a while. Sounds like you've got a lot on and especially now there's Wheat to look out for. How about that?"

"Yeah. Still haven't decided if I'm doing the right thing."

"Where's Kyle? I expected to see him here as well."

Heyes' face fell and his mouth formed an O. "I guess no one's told you."

"What?"

Heyes told him what had happened to Kyle. The Kid sighed sadly.

"That's too bad. I liked Kyle," he said, sadly.

"Yeah me too." Heyes sighed. "Hit Wheat pretty hard. I er … think … coming to see me … was his last roll of the dice, Kid. Dunno what he would of done if I … well I jus' couldn't. That night he came to me … he was a broken man." He looked down and shook his head. "I couldn't turn him away." He looked up and rolled his eyes. "'Sides I owe him big time now." Heyes coughed.

The Kid nodded. "So what's he been doing while you're laid up?"

An amused smile appeared on Heyes' face and he smacked his lips. "He's been babysitting."

The Kid stretched his neck as if he hadn't heard right. Then he decided he had and his eyebrows raised.

Heyes laughed and then put his hand to his chest with a wince. "Apparently he's good with 'em. Who'd a thought it huh?" He coughed.

"Wheat?"

"Yeah."

"Wheat Carlson?"

"Yeah."

"Middle aged man, little bit taller than us, big moustache."

"Yeah, yeah, that one."

"Nah!" The Kid shook his head.

"Yeah, you'll see. They like him. Susan wants to marry him. Apparently. And Harry says his stories are better'n mine. Even Billy likes him." Heyes rolled his eyes and smacked his lips. "Mary says they climb all over him and he loves it. I think I've been thrown over in their affections." He coughed. "Pass me that water will you?"

The Kid poured a glass and handed it to over. He grinned. "This I have to see."

Heyes scowled and drank, clearing his throat as he did so. "I'm not entirely convinced it's a good idea but what can I do?" He looked away shaking his head. Then he looked back at the Kid critically. "You're looking well, Kid."

"Yes," the Kid agreed, nodded. "Married life suits me."

"And so does life in Boston. Getting enough to eat I see."

The Kid looked down at his waistline. "I'm a few pounds heavier than I was. Nothing I can't stand. Running after the boys helps."

"How are Caroline and the boys?"

The Kid grinned broadly. He always did at the mention of his wife and their family. Heyes still shook his head at the life the Kid now led. It couldn't be more different from the one he had only a few years previously. "Be another by the end of the year."

Heyes grinned and awkwardly shook hands with his left.

"Then I really do appreciate you taking the time to come out here, Kid." He patted his cousin on the arm.

"Yeah, well you ain't the only reason I'm here." Heyes raised his chin in interest. "Gonna look for some land, mebbe build a house."

"Gonna come and live?" Heyes looked eager. He had to cough again and frowned in irritation.

"No, not permanently. Caroline will want the boys educated in Boston. I'm not gonna win that argument so I'm not even gonna try. And if number three is a girl … . But there's the holidays. Be nice if they could appreciate a different way of life. My way of life. And where better to do it than near family."

Heyes nodded. "That sounds like a good compromise."

"Yeah." The Kid wrinkled his nose. "'Course it's a compromise on Caroline's terms. The house will have to be suitably large for all the luggage and folks we'll bring with us. I'm not talking a log cabin here."

"Ah!" Heyes smacked his lips. They were talking mansions. "Well I can give you the name of the architect who drew up the plans for this place. His rates were reasonable and he did a good job. We got what we wanted."

The Kid nodded, thoughtfully. "I've got letters of introduction to a couple of fellas in Cheyenne. I'm particularly keen to see a parcel of land called Pine Lake. There's no rush. I've got plenty of time. My priority is to make sure you're looked after."

Heyes leant his head back with a groan. "I don't need fussing, Kid! Mary's doing enough of that as it is." Another cough he tried to disguise.

The Kid frowned. "Women do, y'know that. It'll go easier on ya Heyes if ya just let her get on with it." He got up. "And I'm under strict instructions not to tire ya out and to let you sleep."

Heyes growled. "I'm not tired … oh." His body betrayed him and he stifled a yawn.

Smiling the Kid helped him shuffle down the bed.

"Ya want any of this?" he asked pointing to the small bottle by the water jug.

"No."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Not even a few drops? Take the edge of? Might help with that cough you're developing."

Heyes looked up at him hard. He hoped nobody had noticed. Mary he could con, although that was getting harder by the day. The Kid, he knew he couldn't. He reluctantly nodded. "A little."

"Good morning," Mary breezed in with a breakfast tray. She put it down and pulled back the drapes.

Heyes winced as the light flooded in.

"Don't!"

She looked back at the sharpness of his tone. One look at his face told her there was something wrong. She tugged them closed a little.

"Better?"

He grunted.

"Didn't you sleep?"

He grunted again, this time ambiguously.

Mary looked at him in concern. He didn't look as though he'd slept at all. His eyes were sunken and he looked in pain.

"Are you pain?"

"'Course I'm in pain, Mary. I came off my horse and dragged along the ground for hundreds of yards!" he snapped. That was an exaggeration and he knew it. He groaned and put his hand over his eyes. He coughed and frowned.

Mary sat back, hurt.

"There's some laudanum left …."

"I don't want any damm laudanum!"

Mary took a deep breath. "I have some willow bark."

"NO!"

"Well perhaps you'll feel better if you sit up and …" She got up, preparing to help.

"I DON'T WANT TO SIT UP!" He turned his head away.

"Then what do you want?"

"To be left alone." He coughed and licked his lips.

Mary hesitated and retreated a few steps. "I've brought you some breakfast."

"NO! I don't want any breakfast. I just want to be LEFT ALONE!"

"Okay, I'm going."

She picked up the tray, looked at him and left.

Downstairs, she dropped the tray on the kitchen counter with a thud.

"Something wrong?" the Kid asked, casually, buttering toast. Across the table, Wheat rolled his eyes. They had both heard the shouting.

"He doesn't want any breakfast."

"Ah!"

The Kid and Wheat swopped glances.

"He wants to be left alone."

"Ah!"

The Kid and Wheat widened their eyes at each other.

"Did he sleep?"

"It didn't look like it." Mary sniffed. "I think … he's in a lot of pain, Jed. I think he's getting a cough. Ben warned me pneumonia could be a complication."

The Kid got up and went to her. Wheat got up too. "I'll er jus' go check on ma horse," he said, sidling out of the door and fled.

The Kid scowled after him. Trust Wheat to disappear. The Kid turned back to Mary who was looking quite distressed. This was tough for her too. He held her upper arms.

"Mary this is the slump."

"The slump?" she frowned.

"Yeah, Heyes is always like this when he's hurt. He's good for a couple of days after the … incident and then he kinda … falls off a cliff. He slumps. He usually comes round in a day or two. And if he's not feeling well then it's kinda worse. But we'll just have to keep an eye on him and ride it out."

"Yesterday I caught him on the side of the bed. He wanted to get up. Today he doesn't even want to sit up." Mary frowned in non-understanding.

"That's Heyes for ya."

"So this is normal for him. I shouldn't be worried?"

"Not yet. Let's leave him be for now. I'll look in on him later. If that cough gets worse then we'll send for the Doc, whether Heyes wants to see him or not."

Mary didn't look convinced.

"I promise ya Mary. This is just the way he is."

Mary wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and folded her arms protectively. "He's a complex man isn't he? I thought I knew him. Obviously not."

The Kid smiled. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I've known Heyes all my life and he's still a mystery to me." He rolled his eyes, making her smile. "When's the doc next visiting?"

"Tomorrow."

"Well let's leave him to brood away today. Tomorrow we'll tell the doc how he is and we'll let _him_ decide what to do 'bout it. Okay?"

Mary nodded.

"Cowdry and me are gonna ride out and look at some land. I'll check on Grumpy Bear when I get back. Alright?" the Kid grinned. "Talking of Cowdry …." He walked to the kitchen door, threw it opened and yelled, "COWDRY!"

"Here sir?"

Cowdry appeared from around the corner, making the Kid jump. "I swear you appear outta thin air!" he said, irritably.

"No sir." Cowdry paused for a nanosecond. "Not _all_ the time," he added, almost to himself.

The Kid frowned hard but decided to let it go. "Cowdry we're going riding. Got anything suitable to wear?" He nodded his head at the suit Cowdry was wearing.

"Er … um … we are sir?" Cowdry looked a little green and swallowed hard.

The Kid resisted the impulse to grin at his man's discomfort. "Yeah, it'll be nice. Get out and see the country. Think of the stories you can tell your girl when we get home."

"Yes sir." Cowdry took a deep breath. "It's just that I don't ride, sir!" he burst out. Please don't make me, he could have added.

"Oh, well, it's not difficult. You'll soon pick it up."

Cowdry smiled weakly. "Yes sir."

"Now we should get you something better to wear." The Kid pushed open the kitchen door and stuck his head round. "Mary, has Heyes got anything that Cowdry can borrow to go riding in?"

A moment later, she appeared and looked Cowdry up and down.

"Well they're about the same size. I'll go and look. Come with me Paul."

"Yes, madam," he sighed, carelessly and then took a sharp intake of breath when she glared at him. "Sorry, Mrs … Heyes."

The Kid smirked as he watched them go upstairs. The Kid had found a useful, intelligent and amusing ally in Paul Cowdry. When he was first settling in, the valet had been his main source for understanding how a grand house worked, how Boston society operated and his wife's place in it and generally all things Eastern and foreign to him. Although they were careful to operate as a man and his man in public, Paul was his best friend in Boston. Each man valued the other's friendship.

Ten minutes later, the Kid was rubbing his chin in amusement, as Paul Cowdry came down the stairs behind a smug looking Mary.

"Well, will he do?"

The Kid nodded. Cowdry was looking decidedly uncomfortable in navy blue shirt, buttermilk coloured pants and light tan boots.

"Yep I think he'll do just fine," he said, dashing Cowdry's vain hopes that he could still get out of this. "Will he mind?" he asked Mary quietly – he meaning Heyes.

"I've been trying to get rid of that shirt and those pants for years. Every time I think I've thrown them out, I find them in the bottom of his closet. He won't even know," Mary smiled conspiratorially. "Oh, and Paul will need a hat. I've just the thing." She disappeared into the study and was back a moment later with a black hat.

The Kid took it from her, looking doubtful. "Mary I'm not sure 'bout this. Clothes are one thing but Heyes is very precious 'bout this hat although it beats me why." He turned the battered old black hat over in his hands.

"Yes I know and I've no idea why either. He never wears it and it's … well look at it!" Plainly, the Hannibal Heyes hat as it was known in the family was a source of friction between Heyes and Mary.

The Kid looked at her and then at Cowdry. Finally, he sighed. "Well it would complete the ensemble," he said, rolling his eyes and handed the hat to Cowdry. As he did so, he caught Mary's look. "I know words!" he spluttered. "There's a whole library full of books with words in 'em at home. I go in there sometimes. Look stuff up … ." He tailed off as Mary smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Go for your ride. Will you be back for lunch?"

The Kid glanced at the hall clock. "No. It's a nice day. Kinda like to stay out as long as possible." The whimper from Cowdry made him look hard at his man. "We should take something with us though. Don't think Cowdry's up to hard tack and jerky this first trip out."

"You're not a natural horseman are ya, Paul?"

The Kid tried to stop himself from smiling as he looked at his valet, bouncing along behind him.

"No sir. Not much call for it in my profession sir," Cowdry said, through gritted teeth. He was sure his posterior would agree but he wasn't looking forward to having that conversation when he got off this wild beast.

The Kid turned away and grinned. He had purposefully picked Mary's docile mare for Cowdry to ride. Even so, Cowdry was clutching the reins as if he was sitting on a bucking bronco, his eyes fixed firmly on the horse's neck and nowhere else.

It was with some trepidation that the Kid had borrowed Heyes' mount. John the liveryman assured him that there was no sign of whatever had been the matter a few days before. The Kid was relieved that John was right.

Sometime later, The Kid and Cowdry pulled up on the shores of a large lake.

"This must be Pine Lake. It sure is pretty," the Kid smiled, crossing his forearms over the horn of his saddle. "Don't ya think Paul?"

Cowdry risked a quick glance up. "Yes sir, very nice. Whoa!"

Seeing the water so close, Cowdry's horse decided it needed a drink and moved forward to do so. Cowdry, not expecting the movement, lost his balance, tipped back and side wards, landing with a squelch and a splash. He had landed half in the lake itself and half in the thick mud around the edges. The Kid winced and rubbed his chin to hide the grin that appeared at the sight of his wildly floundering man. Then he cleared his throat and got down to help. He couldn't stop the smile as he hauled Cowdry to firmer land.

"Thank you sir but I'm quite alright," Cowdry gulped with as much dignity as he could muster for a man whose bottom half was wet and muddy.

Now the Kid did chuckle and held Cowdry steady by the shoulder as he swayed.

"Little rocky there partner. Tell ya what you sit here for a spell and dry off. I'm gonna ride round the lake and see how far it goes. How's that?"

"That's fine by me sir. If you're sure you'll be alright on your own?" Cowdry was just being polite. The Kid laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, nearly pitching the unsteady man back into the lake.

"Yes Paul, I'll be fine." He picked out his pocket watch. "I'll be 'bout an hour I reckon." He glanced up at the sun. "Maybe two but no more. When I get back we'll have lunch."

"Yes sir. That's fine sir. I'll be sitting right here, waiting for you." Cowdry indicated a patch of grass nearby. "What about … that sir?" He waved his hand nervously at his horse.

The Kid smiled. "I'll tie her outta the way so she won't bother you."

"Thank you sir." Cowdry seemed very relieved.

A few minutes later, the Kid rode away shaking his head. Behind him, Cowdry made himself comfortable on the patch of grass and pulled off his boots. Wrinkling up his nose in disgust, he emptied water out of first one and then the other.

"Why ever did I leave Surrey?" he muttered before flopping back to doze.

Sometime later, Cowdry half asleep rolled over onto his side and repositioned the black hat over his face. It was perfect for keeping the sun off. A moment later, he was fully awake, his arms roughly pulled behind his back. He heard a click.

"What?" His eyes flew open to focus on the business end of a revolver. "Oh!"

"Hoo eee, it jus' can't be that easy!" cackled the owner of the revolver. "Hannibal Heyes hisself."

"Ya sure he's Hannibal Heyes, Clyde?" another voice behind Cowdry asked. Presumably the man holding his hands behind his back. Far too firmly for comfort!

"Now just a minute sir!"

"'Course I'm sure. That's Kid Curry for certain who's rode way ain't it?"

"Yeah but he don't look like Hannibal Heyes."

"Have ya ever seen Hannibal Heyes, Rickon?"

Rickon frowned hard. "Nope I don't rightly think I have."

"Then how d'you know this ain't Hannibal Heyes?" Clyde had got to his feet and was facing the other man. "If that's Kid Curry …" He waved his gun in the direction the Kid had rode away. "Then this … ." He waved the gun in Cowdry's direction again. Cowdry had struggled into a sitting position. He was looking wide-eyed from one scruffy man to the other. "Must be Hannibal Heyes. He called him partner. Who else would Kid Curry call partner?"

"Er excuse me."

"Well I don't rightly know Clyde. It could jus' be a … figure of speech."

"What's one of them?"

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

"Well it's jus' the way ya say something. That's all."

"What's it mean?"

"Gentlemen, if I may …"

"Shut up!" Clyde shouted at Cowdry and then turned back to his accomplice. "I'm tellin' ya. THAT is Hannibal Heyes." He swung his gun in Cowdry's direction and Cowdry had to duck to avoid his head connecting with it.

"I am not!" Cowdry said, firmly.

"What d'ya say?" Clyde leaned over at him menacingly and his gun cocked in Cowdry's face.

Cowdry gulped.

"I'm not Hannibal Heyes. I mean … can't you hear an English accent in my voice? I ask you does Hannibal Heyes have an English accent? No sir. I've never heard that. I mean if I was Hannibal Heyes do you think he would have allowed himself to be caught sleeping … out here … in the middle of nowhere? No sir I really don't think he would."

"Still think he's not Hannibal Heyes?" Clyde looked at Rickon, who looked doubtful.

"Well …"

"He's Hannibal Heyes! He's talkin' up a storm jus' like Hannibal Heyes would."

"Oh no! No, no, no. I couldn't do that. No sir not me. Quiet as a mouse. That's me."

Both men looked at him hard. Cowdry smiled innocently. You never know it might help. Both men looked at each other.

"He's Hannibal Heyes," they both said together. Cowdry groaned. This couldn't be happening. He must be dreaming. That was it, he was fast asleep by the side of the lake and he was dreaming.

"Get him up," Clyde ordered.

Rickon hauled Cowdry roughly to his feet. Cowdry revised his theory. Perhaps he wasn't asleep.

"We'll take him back and let Bloodstone loose on him."

"Oooh! Now just a minute sir. You can't just … owh … do you mind!" Cowdry frowned furiously at Rickon and Clyde.

"Nope! Come along Heyes."

"I'm telling you I'm not Heyes!"

"Jus' … jus' get on ya horse an' quit belly-aching!"

"Horse?" Cowdry suddenly understood that they wanted him to get up on … that … that … beast! "No, no, no. I can't. I can't. I really can't. Yee … ow!" Cowdry found himself belly flopped over the saddle. One of the men – Cowdry didn't know or care – was swinging his leg round and over. "Eh! Well really!"

"Sit up!"

"No, no. I daren't … no. Oh!" He felt the back of his shirt yanked up and now he was properly astride. The horse moved under him and he squealed. "I'll fall off! I'll fall off! Sirs would you please just listen!"

"Tie his hands round the horn," Clyde ordered and shaking his head, stomped off in the direction of his horse. "Jeez! What a … ." The rest of the expletives were lost to the wind.

The Kid had a pleasant ride round the lake. The more he looked around the more he liked what he saw. By the time, he had completed the circuit he had made up his mind. Yes, he wanted this spot. House on the top of the hill there, a terrace built out to take advantage of the views, garden landscaped down to the lake. Yes, he could see it all clearly in his mind. He smiled in satisfaction. Now he knew how Heyes felt when he had made a plan.

The Kid was back at the spot where he'd left Cowdry. He frowned and looked around. This was the spot wasn't it? He rode a little way further but no. He rode back. Yes, this definitely was the spot. So where was he then?

"Cowdry!"

No answer.

"Cowdry! Paul!"

No answer.

The Kid dismounted and walked over to the tree where he knew he had tied the mare. He looked around. Definite signs of nibbling. This was the right place, alright.

"Where the blazes …?" He knew Cowdry wouldn't have ridden back to Amnesty on his own. The Kid continued to look around and then he found it. He snatched up the scruffy black hat and a dark pang took up residence in the pit of his stomach. "Cowdry," he breathed. This time when he looked round he was looking for something else. He didn't need to be the champeen tracker of southern Utah to read the sign. Two individuals had skulked in the bushes here. Two horses had been tied there. Yet _three_ horses had travelled away from the lake. "Paul, where the hell are you?"

The Kid was torn. Follow the trail, who knows where with no gun. Well, not a proper gun. He had an itsy bitsy derringer in his pocket but this may require something more substantial. For all his reputation had been he was a cautious man. He had always weighed up the risks before he embarked on something. He and Heyes would talk long into the night about what could go wrong when planning a job. He was not going to start rushing into the unknown without a proper gun and some help. And both of these were back at Amnesty.

Mounting up, the Kid noted the direction the tracks led and set off in the opposite direction at a fast pace back to Amnesty.

Cowdry was lying on his side on a bed, hands tied behind his back. Ropes tied his ankles together and secured him to the bedpost. He had been here for hours. Or so it seemed. He was cramped and frightened. They had told him one of them was going to get Bloodstone and Bloodstone would give him a seeing to. Cowdry already didn't like Bloodstone. He had nothing to tell them. They had hinted at a little job they expected him to do for them. What could that be? Nothing Cowdry could do but something Hannibal Heyes could do. What could Hannibal Heyes do that he couldn't? Puzzling on that at least passed the time while he waited for Bloodstone to come and give him a seeing to.

Cowdry thought about Mr Heyes' career as an outlaw. It must be something from that time. He and his employer Mr Curry had been the two most successful outlaws in the West during the 70's and early 80's before their amnesty. So was it a train to rob? A bank to rob? No, Cowdry had it. They wanted Mr Heyes to crack a safe! Oh!

At that moment the door opened and Rickon stepped in, gun drawn. To Cowdry's surprise, he started to untie his feet.

"Clyde's back. Bloodstone can't get here until tomorrow."

"Oh, that's a shame," Cowdry said, relieved.

"Yeah, Clyde reckons you'd better cook supper."

"Me! Owh!" Rickon was roughly untying his hands. As Cowdry moved them round the blood started to flow properly and painfully.

"Yeah, he reckons you can make yourself useful."

"But … but … ." Hauling Cowdry his feet, Rickon pushed him into the main room. Clyde was sitting at the table eating an apple with a knife.

"You can make a start on supper. All the fixings are over there." Clyde waved a hand at the sink.

Cowdry just stared. This had suddenly become very surreal and he blinked in disbelief.

"Cook?" he queried, stupidly.

"Yeah. Beef stew. Ya can do that can't ya?"

"Er no. Not really." He looked round at Rickon as if he would help him.

Clyde got up from the table. Cowdry took a step back. He had forgotten the knife Clyde held. Not to mention the gun at his right hip. Or the gun that Rickon still held in his hand.

"Um look listen … I'm really not a good cook. Why I've … ." He grinned. "Been known to burn water." Clyde nodded to Rickon who gave Cowdry a push towards the sink. "I'll ruin your pots! Leave them on the fire for too long, burn a hole in the bottom. It'll cost you a fortune! And … and the food will be inedible I can guarantee."

Clyde pressed the apple knife to Cowdry's throat. "Jus' get on with it and no more noise."

"Yes sir. As you've put it like that."

Cowdry unpacked the box and looked at the ingredients. He had a fair idea where to start. He'd seen enough cooking at close quarters working in a big house. Well of course, he was just the one who served it upstairs but he had a fair idea what it should look like. Rolling his eyes, he'd give it a go he thought.

Washing the meat under the pump, he glanced through the window. Something caught his eye and he frowned. He squinted. An idea was forming but he needed a closer look.

"You know," he said, starting to spin round. Both men were at the table not paying him any attention. In fact, they were playing cards.

"What now?" Clyde growled, not looking up from his hand.

"Well there's no seasoning."

"So? Make it without."

"Awh! It will be bland and uninteresting if I did that," Cowdry grinned, disarmingly. He lacked the double dimples of the man they thought he was but the effect was the same. "There's the remains of an herb garden outside. I think I saw some rosemary. That'll flavour it a treat. Let me go and get some." He was already sidling to the door.

The cocking of Clyde's gun brought him to a halt. The pointing of that gun at him made him raise his hands.

"And have you run off. Naw!"

"No, no of course not." Cowdry shrugged. "Now where would I run to? Look the herbs are only a few feet outside the door. One of you can come with me and watch me all the time."

Clyde gave him a hard look, and then sighed. "Rickon watch our guest doesn't try anything. And if he does, shoot 'im."

Cowdry gulped. "You'll thank me, Mr Clyde. It'll make all the difference you'll see."

With Rickon hard on his heels, Cowdry found the overgrown herb garden. He bent to examine a plant. Yes, it was rosemary all right. Except, it wasn't quite. It was bog rosemary. A plant not related at all. Yet looking remarkably like the real thing. Only this plant would make anyone who ate it vomit and suffer from …. urgent dashes to the outhouse. Cowdry knew that for appearances he would have to eat some of the stew himself. So long as he only ate a little, he should be okay. If he made the stew good enough then Clyde and Rickon would eat most of it. Then all he had to do was wait until they were … er distracted and he could make his escape. Where to exactly he would work out later. For now, he was frantically trying to remember how to make his grandmother's beef stew.


	7. Chapter 7

Settling Wheat – Part Seven (Rescue)

Heyes was ill. He lay propped up in a sitting position, feeling cold, despite the blankets pulled up to his chin. The next moment he was hot and sweating. He was finding it hard to breathe. His broken ribs made it painful to take deep breaths and when he did take a breath, it was laboured and crackly. On top of that, he felt very sleepy. All that damm laudanum everyone kept making him take, no doubt. A setback, that's all this was and he was determined to ride this out. Pneumonia, Ben had said. Ha! What did he know? Bad cold, that's all. Yet deep down he knew it wasn't. He was very ill and there was nothing he could do about it.

Groaning in resignation, he turned his head away and closed his eyes. He felt a cool cloth laid across his forehead. He opened his eyes to look at Mary.

"I'm sorry, Mary," he whispered. Anything louder hurt his scratchy throat.

"You've nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault you're ill." She smiled at him and he returned it weakly. "Try and sleep now. I'll get the laudanum."

She started to get up.

"No!" Weak as he was, he caught her and held her. "No laudanum."

Mary sat down again and gave him her stern look. The look that had the children behaving. The look he had always hoped would never turn on him. His hand let go of her wrist when he saw it.

"Ben says it's because you wouldn't take it before that you've got pneumonia. Laudanum helps deaden the pain, Josh. Because your ribs hurt so much, you haven't been taking deep enough breathes. Breathing deeply helps clear out the lungs and that has allowed infection to set in."

Heyes licked his lips, trying to think of something to say in reply.

"Cause and effect, Josh. There's a formula for everything." She rolled her eyes. "So you keep telling me." She gave him that look again. "Now … ."

"Alright!"

Heyes knew when to throw his hand in and now was that time. "Give me the damm laudanum then," he muttered, petulantly. She'd won but he didn't have to be gracious in defeat.

Mary got up with a smile. She went to the cabinet where water and the little brown bottle awaited.

"Where's the Kid?" he asked, suddenly.

"He and Paul went for a ride to look at a piece of land for sale." She thought it best not to tell him anything further. It would only worry him.

The Kid had returned to get Wheat and his gun. Mary could tell he was worried and uneasy. The way he kept drawing his gun and inspecting the chambers one at a time, told her that. It must be years since the Kid had strapped on a gun, even handled a gun like his Colt. Mary didn't know who was the more nervous. Kid Curry because he knew he wasn't the man he used to be or Wheat Carlson, because he knew it as well. It was an uneasy pair who rode off together in search of Cowdry.

"It's ready," Cowdry said, clasping the big cauldron of beef stew he had made and heading for the table. He set it down with a thud in the middle.

"Hey watch it!" Clyde growled. "We were playing cards."

"Well now you're eating." Cowdry beamed at the man. "Clear all this up," he waved a hand at the cards and chips. "I'll get plates and cutlery." He turned away.

"Aren't we supposed to be in charge here?" Rickon whispered to Clyde.

Clyde growled and sent a black look in Cowdry's direction. "Yeah but … ." He sniffed. "That smells reeel good." He paused with an eye on Cowdry's back. "Quick. Do as he says and let's get eatin'."

Cowdry smirked to himself. He returned a moment later to a cleared table. Sitting down he began to serve.

"Now this is my Grandma's recipe. She was famed throughout the Home Counties* for her beef stew so I hope you like it. Tuck in."

Neither kidnapper needed telling again. They dug in hungrily.

"Hey! This is good," Clyde said, genuinely surprised.

"Sure is. This is the best stew I ever tasted," said, Rickon.

"Thank you. It came out better than I hoped," Cowdry said, with a pleased grin.

In no time, two plates were scrapped clean and being offered up for more. Cowdry happily obliged.

"Say you ain't eat much," Rickon said, noticing Cowdry had barely touched his plate.

"No, thank you for your concern. I'm not very hungry. Given the circumstances, I've lost my appetite."

"Awh, that's a real shame," Clyde grinned around a mouthful of stew.

Cowdry pushed his much smaller portion around his plate and only ate a forkful when one or other looked at him. Very soon, the cauldron was empty. Cowdry began to wonder how long the effect would take and … oh no, suppose they tied him up before it did! He scrapped back his chair.

"I er need to … you know …. spend a penny," he said in embarrassment.

"Huh?" Rickon looked at Clyde for help.

"I need to …. look a gentleman never actually SAYS what his body tells him needs doing."

Double huhs.

"I need to PEE! Is one of you going to accompany me? I'll go by myself if you prefer but I am your prisoner."

He began to stalk to the door. Clyde intercept him, catching his shirt at the throat and putting his gun to his face.

"Ya'll go when I tell ya!"

"Can you tell me soon because I really need to go," Cowdry winced. "It's a little urgent."

Clyde pushed him away with a growl.

"Take him to the outhouse," he ordered Rickon.

"Why me? You're already on ya feet!"

"'Cos I'm tellin' ya!"

Clyde advanced menacingly on Rickon who was still sitting at the table.

"Please gentlemen no fighting," pleaded Cowdry who was now hopping up and down. "Just make up your minds please before there is a puddle." Then to himself. "Which I'll have to clean up no doubt."

"Shut it Heyes!" Clyde didn't take his eyes off Rickon.

"Oh not this again!" whined Cowdry. "I am not Heyes. It's no good. I have to go. Shoot me if you need to!" With a nonchalant wave of dismissal, Cowdry wrenched the door open and stepped out.

"Get after him!"

Rickon decided that he had pushed Clyde far enough and disappeared after the prisoner. Cowdry made for the outhouse and reached it before Rickon caught up.

"Don't try nuffin'! I'll be right out here."

Cowdry nodded, stepped into the outhouse and shut the door. The light was fading but there was still enough to see by. He wrinkled up his nose at the unsanitary conditions, snatched up the newspaper that hadn't yet been prepared for it's alternative use and spread several sheets over what passed for a seat, sat down and puffed.

Well he was out of the house but Rickon was right outside. How long could he push staying here? How long could he STAND staying here? It wasn't exactly Kew Gardens.

Cowdry was unaware that hidden in the bushes less than thirty feet away was Kid Curry and Wheat Carlson. They were laying on their fronts in the undergrowth. No one would see them unless they were looking for someone specifically skulking in the bushes. The Kid had detected a slight stiffening of Wheat's body when hostage and kidnapper came in sight.

"Don't suppose you know who that is do ya Wheat?" the Kid whispered.

Wheat sniffed. "'Might."

The Kid growled. "Wheat?"

"Alright! I … think that's Rickon Bulmer."

"So? Who's he?"

Wheat shrugged and pursed his lips. "Small time crook. Muscle for hire."

The Kid gave Wheat a sharp look. Wheat looked back. "What!"

The Kid looked away and shuddered. "I won't ask how you know him," he muttered.

Wheat gave a big sniff. "He ain't the problem though Kid."

"Then what is."

"He's gotta brother. Clyde I think his name is. He ain't too bright but he's real handy with a gun."

As if on cue, the Kid reached back and drew his gun. He checked the chamber for bullets.

"When was the last time you er held a gun er Kid?" Wheat tried to sound casual and looked away to hide the smirk on his lips.

"It's been a while," the Kid growled.

"Guess ya don't have to kill ya own dinner no more. Or face off against …"

"Hush up Wheat!" The look the Kid threw Wheat's way should have and would have frozen him to the spot in past times. Not anymore. Wheat continued to chortle quietly to himself.

"Don't get proddy, Kid. I jus' means if ya want me to take the lead in this endeavour you jus' say the word."

"I may not be fast on the draw no more Wheat but I can still hit what I aim at."

"Is that right?"

"Want me to test my theory on you Wheat? Go stand over by that tree. I'll try real hard not to hit ya."

Wheat gulped and sobered. "Didn't mean nuttin' by it Kid. Jus' josh … ." Wheat tailed off as the Kid touched his arm in warning. "What's he doing?"

Rickon was holding his stomach and frowning. A noise emanated from him and then a smell, which caught on the wind blowing in their direction, reaching the skulkers a moment later.

"Sheesh!" Wheat pulled his bandana up over his nose.

The Kid pulled a face and put his gloved hand over his nose.

"Hurry up in there!" Rickon was now hammering on the door of the outhouse.

"Just a minute," sang Cowdry's cheerful voice from inside.

"Ya been in there long enough! What ya doing?"

"Ooh. You don't want to know."

"Get out here now! I's gotta go!"

"I'm coming. Patience man." It was several long moments before Cowdry emerged. The door was almost wrenched out of his hand so desperate was Rickon to get inside.

"I'll make my own way back then," Cowdry said to himself. He glanced at the cabin, wondering if the moment to make a break for it was now. Clyde was nowhere in sight.

"Psst! Paul!"

Cowdry looked round with a frown. He couldn't see anyone but he definitely thought he'd heard a voice and it was calling his name. He swallowed hard, gave the cabin one more glance and stepped slowly into the trees in the direction he thought the voice had come from. It was getting dark and he was moving away from the clearing the buildings occupied. The trees and undergrowth looked uninviting. All deep black shadows. Cowdry decided he'd go back and wait for the inevitable consequences of his stew on Clyde. By all accounts, it had already started on Rickon.

Cowdry about turned and started back. A gloved hand covered his mouth and held him firmly. He gasped and stiffened. Was it Clyde? A furtive look out of the corner of his eye told him it wasn't. He looked into the amused face of Wheat Carlson. Then a grinning Kid Curry appeared in front of him. Cowdry relaxed and Wheat let him go.

"Sir!"

The Kid put a finger across his lips and shook his head. He indicated behind them. All three crouched down behind the bushes and watched as Clyde came out of the cabin at speed, heading for the outhouse.

"Hurry up in there!" He hammered on the door, just as Rickon had a few minutes before.

Cowdry gave a wide Heyesian grin. Dressed as he was, for a moment the Kid almost believed he was his partner.

"Paul?" he whispered in that man's ear.

"I cooked stew sir." Cowdry said, po-faced. "It doesn't agree with them."

"Paul, what have you done?"

From inside the outhouse there was a growl. "I'm having a s**t!"

Wheat smothered a chortle. "Sheesh! Kid that's some boy ya got there."

"Yeah well I gotta go too!" Clyde hammered on the door again.

The Kid gave Cowdry a hard look. Cowdry looked back innocently.

Clyde growled and stomped off into the trees. Fortunately not in their direction.

The Kid put a hand on Cowdry's arm. "Alright. I think we're safe to move. Let's edge back to the horses."

Slowly and quietly, the three got up and headed away. Reaching the horses where they could talk freely, the Kid turned to Cowdry.

"Paul are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He looked at him in concern.

"I'm fine sir. They tied me up but no, they didn't hurt me. Glad to be back in civilised company sir."

With the last, he flicked a glance in Wheat's direction. Wheat gave him a hard look.

"Did they tell you what they wanted with you? Did they take you 'cos of me?"

Cowdry winced. "Yes sir. Sort of. They thought I was Mr Heyes sir."

"Mr … Mr Heyes?" The Kid was wide eyed.

"Yes sir. One of them knew you were Kid Curry sir and you called me partner. They just assumed."

The Kid grinned and gripped Cowdry's shoulder, giving it a shake. "I'm sorry Paul."

"He do look like Heyes." Wheat said, eyeing Cowdry critically. "'Specially in that get up."

"Ye-ah, which brings us to the big question. If they thought you were Heyes, what did they want with Heyes?"

Cowdry swallowed and frowned. He licked his lips. The Kid stiffened. That was a mannerism straight out of Heyes' collection. Especially when he was about to deliver the results of his planning. "I gave that some thought sir. While I was lying on the bed tied up." He saw the look the Kid gave him. "Well there was nothing else to do sir. It passed the time."

The Kid nodded and motioned for him to go on.

"Well I think they were only hired to keep watch on the lake sir. I don't know what that reason is but there must be one. Anyway, when they saw you riding off, having called me partner they must have assumed I was Mr Heyes. It was opportunistic to me sir because they were talking later about persuading Mr Heyes to open a safe for them. After you rode off sir I went to sleep – well doze sir. I mean this morning was stressful for me sir. What with riding that horse and then falling off …."

"Ya fell off!" Wheat hooted. "Sheesh! Don't they teach you Limeys how to ride?"

"Yes sir we can." Cowdry paused. "Well most of us can. A lot of us can. I rode as a boy to school but that was … . But it was only the plough horse sir. My sister Daisy rode up front and handled the reins and … things. I just sat behind. She's older than me and …. ."

"Paul." The Kid's hand gripped Cowdry's shoulder firmly and gave him a shake. "We're getting off track."

"Yes sir. They tied me up, brought me here and then Clyde went off to get someone called Bloodstone."

"Bloodstone?" the Kid frowned. "I know that name."

"What ya thinking Kid?"

The Kid shook his head. "It'll come to me. Carry on Paul."

"Well sir apparently Mr Bloodstone couldn't come. I don't know why but it I was relieved when he didn't. Apparently he was going to – and I quote "give me a seeing to" unquote."

The Kid growled. He was feeling a number of things. He was upset at Cowdry's treatment because of him, even inadvertently. And the name Bloodstone had come to him now. A Mr Bloodstone had written to him in his official capacity as the government agent for the local Department of Land Management. If he was involved with these two men, then there was something under hand going on here. The Kid looked at Wheat and Cowdry. They looked back, expecting him to take the lead on this.

Cowdry didn't look like he'd been harmed other than an almighty scare. Wheat just looked like he needed a drink.

"Paul, are ya sure ya're alright?"

Cowdry nodded. "Yes sir. Just a little shaken sir." He drew himself up. "I'll live sir."

The Kid smiled. "Good. We need to know what's going on here. How d'ya feel 'bout going back in there?"

Cowdry looked open mouthed. "Sir?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, I know it's a lot to ask. Wheat will stay outside to keep watch. Make sure nothing happens to ya."

"Uh?" This from Wheat, who had been thinking now they had Cowdry they would get on back to Amnesty.

"I think Lom oughta get in on this. Do YOU wanna go see him?"

Wheat drew himself up and sniffed. "S'right Kid. I don't mind staying here and watching his back. See he don't come to no harm. I'll be right outside. Watching." His expression told a different story but he wasn't about to lose face in front of the Kid.

The Kid gave him a look and then turned to Cowdry. "Paul I'm not gonna force you and I'll understand if you say no."

Cowdry swallowed hard. The Kid could see he was having a battle with himself.

"Why is it important sir?" he asked, quietly.

The Kid couldn't put it into words. Instinct was telling him there was something very wrong here. If he was going to do business with Bloodstone at the Department of Land Management, buy land from him, invest his money, then he needed to know who he was dealing with. He was a cautious man and he liked Pine Lake. On the other hand, he could just forget it and go back to Amnesty. It was none of his business. Cowdry was alive and well. Everything was good.

The Kid hesitated.

"'Cos I don't want them to get away with the way they treated you, Paul. Ain't right. And Wheat and I are law-abiding citizens now and we can't stand by and let this sort of thing go on."

"Yeah, we can," Wheat muttered.

"Besides," the Kid went on ignoring Wheat's mutterings. "If the Bloodstone they were talking 'bout is the same Bloodstone who wrote me then I need to know what this is all about."

Cowdry nodded but didn't say anything.

"Kid, like ya say this is Lom's area of expertise. Let him deal with it. Ya man's had an upset. We oughta be getting him back," Wheat argued, seeing coffee, food and a warm comfortable bed waiting back at Amnesty for him as well.

The Kid sighed. "Yeah." He pursed his lips, thoughtfully.

"Or?" Cowdry grinned, suddenly in a very Heyesian way, only minus the dimples. "You er how do you westerners say it? Get the drop on those two and hogtie 'em real good."

The Kid scowled. "You a secret dime novel reader, Paul?" he demanded, irritably.

Cowdry looked embarrassed. "Might have one or two in my room sir," he forced out, not meeting the Kid's eyes.

Beside him, Wheat was rubbing his chin, obviously deep in thought. He was frowning.

"Ya know Kid, that ain't a bad idea," he said, slowly.

"What?"

"Well, I's done some thinking." Wheat sniffed and hitched his pants. "'Cos I can do that. As I'm leading this here rescue."

"Wheat," the Kid growled, menacingly.

"Well it's like this. There's two of them right?"

The Kid folded his arms and nodded, waiting to see what Wheat had to say. Now he knew how Heyes had felt having to listen to some of Wheat's unworkable plans all those years ago.

"And there's three of us right?"

"I can't argue with ya so far. You've got it bang to rights."

Wheat ignored the Kid's sarcasm and pressed on.

"There's me and this here Colt." In emphasis, he took his gun out of his holster. "And there's you." He waved a hand in the Kid's direction. "And yours. Reckon you ain't forgotten which way round it goes."

"Thanks," the Kid false smiled.

"And then there's … ." Wheat looked at Cowdry, who looked horrified. Wheat wrinkled up his nose. "Well there's two of us anyhow." He paused and nodded his head back at the outhouse. "They ain't going anywhere just yet are they? They're occupied. I figure once they get through being occupied, they're gonna come looking for ya man here."

Wheat put his gun away and drew himself up. He was pleased. His audience were warming to what he had to say.

"If they were to find him sitting in the cabin waiting for them, they'd be real pleased, given the circumstances they find themselves in right now. Kid, you and me, can be hid in the bedroom. Reckon we could get the drop on 'em easy enough. Then when they're all tied up, tight, I can take ya man back to Amnesty and you can go get the law. Reckon Lom could use some company in that jail of his, right about now."

The Kid put his hand on Wheat's shoulder and grinned. "Wheat, I take back everything I ever said about ya."

Wheat swelled with pride and then realised what the Kid had said. "What?"

The Kid patted his shoulder. "Good plan, Wheat, good plan. Cowdry are you in? All this hinges on you?"

"You'll be in the bedroom sir?" Cowdry looked anxiously at him.

"Yep, just the other side of the door."

Cowdry nodded. "Okay sir. Then I'll … ." Big gulp. "Do it sir."

The Kid smiled at him. "Then we best get on with it. Those two won't stay occupied for long."

The Kid pulled up outside the Porterville sheriff's office and dismounted. He tied Heyes' horse up outside and gave it a pat. It was well passed dark now and he and Blackie, as Heyes called him, had been out all day and ridden a fair few miles together. The Kid took a moment to ease the kinks out of his back and winced at how sore his legs and backside felt. He wasn't used to all this riding.

Feeling like a poor excuse for a bow legged old cowhand, he walked up to the door. With his hand on the door handle, he paused. He wasn't prepared for the sudden stab of trepidation that hit him. He had no reason to feel that way. He lived a different life now. One that wasn't full of danger and the constant threat of being turned in. He was going in to see an old friend and this time he was doing the turning in. He fought hard to swallow the feeling down before pushing in.

However, inside he didn't find Lom. The man behind the desk looked up and then sat back in surprise. The Kid recognized him immediately and that feeling of trepidation came straight back.

"Mary told me you were here," the man said.

"Luke," the Kid nodded, closing the door. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had met Luke Fletcher, Heyes' father-in-law. Also, former sheriff of Porterville retired with an enviable reputation. He had eyes that could see right through you. Old habits die hard and it made the Kid uneasy. He didn't like that feeling.

Luke eyed the man known as Thaddeus Jones but was really Kid Curry. He had been relieved when Curry had left Porterville after his daughter's marriage, leaving only the one former outlaw to deal with. While he was reconciled to who his son-in-law was, a man who so far hadn't put a foot wrong and was doing all right by his daughter, this one was an entirely different proposition. This one was a killer, he was sure of it. Yet there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Even though he was several years retired, the career lawman in him was hard to shake. He still had a powerful urge to see this one locked up.

"Is Lom around?" the Kid asked, glancing around the office.

"Nope. He and Bart had an incident to deal with out of town. I'm minding the store 'till they get back." He glanced at the clock behind the Kid. "Shouldn't be too much longer."

The Kid nodded. Now he had a dilemma. Stay here in the uneasy company of Luke Fletcher. Alternatively, go back to the cabin in the woods. Try to bring the Bulmer brothers in on his own. The grim memory of the state those two were in flooded back. Naw! Leave 'em there for now. Lom wouldn't want them stinking up his jail anyway.

Only one thing for it then.

"Mind if I wait?" he asked.

Luke shrugged. "Help yaself." He motioned to a chair.

The Kid looked at the chair, thought about it, then thought better of it. His backside agreed. Standing up was a good option right now. Instead, he leaned his elbow on top of the filing cabinet.

"Preferred to stand. If ya don't mind."

"Suit yaself." With a smirk, Luke looked down at the newspaper he was reading. He knew the signs of somebody not used to riding.

The atmosphere was uncomfortable. The Kid glanced round the office, chewing his lips. The air filled with the rustle of newspaper pages as they turned. Then suddenly the newspaper was finished and folded. Luke sighed and sat back in his chair. He looked at the Kid.

"Guess as we're family of sorts we ought to get to know one another. Coffee?"

The Kid nodded. As Luke got up to tend to that, the Kid crossed to the chair he had declined earlier. If he was going to have to chat politely with this formidable man, he might as well be uncomfortable as well.

A few minutes later, Luke settled himself back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee as he regarded the Kid.

"Back to see your cousin?"

"Yes sir," the Kid answered, addressing the man in the same way he remembered Heyes doing. "He's badly hurt. Figgered he might want me around for a while. Take care of his business."

"Ye-ah, Mary told me what happened. Real lucky young fella by all accounts." Luke sipped his coffee thoughtfully.

The Kid widened his eyes and nodded. "Yes," he agreed.

"Good of ya to come all this way. Boston isn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"And what do ya do? In Boston?"

The Kid didn't figure it was any of his business but this was Heyes' father-in-law and they were family. Sort of. So continuing his politeness theme, he answered.

"Investments."

"Huh?" Luke frowned.

The Kid grinned, ruefully. "I know. It's a kinda strange thing. Fell into it by accident." He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Seems I'm rather good at it. Got regular clients. Make a good living." He shrugged again.

"What sorta investments?"

"Small businesses mainly. Folks with good ideas. Sometimes all that's needed is a helping hand."

Luke looked interested. This wasn't anything like what he'd expected. On reflection, he wasn't sure what he HAD expected. The whole notion of Kid Curry living in such a refined place as Boston was almost inconceivable.

"Go on."

The Kid took a deep breath. He hadn't expected to be talking about this tonight with so many other things on his mind. "When I got the amnesty I got a big helping hand. Now I'm in a position where I can help other people. After all my years of taking, I wanna give something back. Y'know make a difference."

Luke nodded and indicated that the Kid should go on.

"So I look for good ideas. Businesses just starting up and I see if I can help. Don't always work out. Money isn't always what's needed. Sometimes it's just a fresh pair of eyes. Folks get so focused on their pet projects they can't always see the whole picture. So I takes a look and I tell 'em honestly if I think it'll work."

The Kid paused. "Sometimes it's just a bit more knowledge that they need. Can't always help with that but I know people who might. Put 'em in touch. Or I can find out who can help them and make the introductions."

He rolled his eyes. "My wife knows all sorta people. Some I don't wanna think about how she knows. So I take a small percentage, in shares or as a commission percentage on net profits and it's worked out over the years. Got an office and a company name and a team of four who work with me."

The Kid had realized he said more than he intended. Somehow, once he'd got started on the subject he found it hard to shut up. Guess that's how Heyes felt the times he ran on.

He grinned. "Not doing too bad for an washed up ole gunslinger huh?"

He was running out of things to say so he was only too relieved to see a couple of lawmen walk in. Never thought he'd feel that.

"Howdy, Lom," he grinned, getting to his feet.

"Kid!" Lom returned his grin.

Beside him, Bart blanched. Oh, my word! This was Kid Curry!

Lom noticed his deputy's face and sighed. "Thaddeus, good to see ya again," he said, quickly, shaking the offered hand. "You remember my deputy, Bart Wilkins? Harker's nephew."

"Oh? Oh, yes. Harker, yes of course. How do?"

The Kid smiled and touched the brim of his hat in Bart's direction. The young deputy looked like his legs were going to give out. Not for the first time just lately was he reconsidering a career in law enforcement.

Somewhere out in the night, Wheat and Cowdry rode back to Amnesty. Cowdry once again on Mary's mare and was glad that Wheat was keeping them to a gentle walk.

"Mr Curry called you Wheat. Is that your name?" Cowdry asked suddenly. "When we first arrived, he introduced you as Walter Brown."

Wheat sniffed. "Well some of us folks hereabouts have more'n one name. It's a tradition, like."

Cowdry nodded. "Confusing."

"Yep. Introduced to strangers as one name. Then when we gets to know ya, you can call us something different." In the darkness, Wheat rolled his eyes. Just how gullible was this Limey?

Not very. Wheat didn't see the smirk on Cowdry's face. He had a fair idea who "Mr Brown" was. Instead, he shrugged and seemed to accept it.

"Well whatever you're called sir. Thank you for rescuing me."

"Awh! Think nothing of it. You're the Kid's man. He'd bust my head if'n I hadn't."

Cowdry grinned. "Never seen him do that in Boston."

"Yeah well, I guess things are a mite more civilized back there. This is the wild ole west. Somethings are still on the raw side. Ain't so refined. Must be a real eye-opener for an Englishman, huh?"

"I've been in America for ten years now!" Cowdry protested. "That's a long time. I now consider myself an American."

"Ain't lost your accent."

Cowdry winced. "No sir. To my regret, no."

"This your first time west of the Mississippi?"

"Yes."

Wheat grinned. He had spotted an opportunity to have a little fun. One too good to pass up.

"Ya alright on that horse there? Ya don't look too steady."

"I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Yep."

"Mrs ….," Cowdry frowned.

Wheat looked at him. "What?"

"Well Mr Curry said that in town, Mrs Heyes was known as Mrs Smith but it was alright to call her Mrs Heyes at Amnesty. We're not at either so what do I refer to her as here?"

"Sheesh! You city boys worry 'bout the darnedest things!"

"I don't want to be disrespectful sir."

"Ya won't. Her name's Mary. Refer to her as that."

"Oh no!" Cowdry shook his head furiously. "I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well because I'm not a … guest, like you are sir. I'm Mr Curry's employee."

Wheat widened his eyes. He hadn't really given it a thought. "His employee?"

"Yes sir. I'm Mr Curry's valet."

Wheat felt like he'd been poleaxed for a moment and then he chortled.

"Kid Curry with a va-lay!"

Wheat's chortle turned into a full-blown laugh. "Oh sheesh! Kid Curry has a va-lay!"

"I really don't see what's so funny," Cowdry said, feeling offended. "He values my work. And I'm good at my job." He paused. "I think."

It was sometime before Wheat calmed and could speak coherently again. Wheat wiped his eyes. "Va-lay! Wait 'till I tell Kyle 'bout this. He'll …. ." Wheat sobered immediately he realized what he'd said. He wouldn't be telling Kyle anything and he looked away.

"Something wrong?" Cowdry asked in concern.

"Naw! We'd best be getting ya back. Let's pick up the pace here," he said, gruffly and kicked his horse into a trot.

Cowdry had no choice but to go with him. Although the moon was up, the night was still dark. He didn't know where he was or how to get back to Amnesty. He needed Wheat and couldn't afford to lose him. Reluctantly, he urged the mare after Wheat's disappearing back.

"Mr Brown! Please wait, Mr Brown. I don't know where I'm going! I can't ride as well as you! Please wait!" Cowdry's voice juddered as he bounced along, getting higher and more panic-stricken as he went. "Wheat!"

Ahead Wheat heard him. This man was is responsibility. The Kid had entrusted him to get him safely back to Amnesty. Much as he found him annoying, he begrudgingly had to concede that he had shown a certain amount of bravery in going back into the cabin and acting as a hostage again. What was it he heard that called? Pluck that was it. The man was plucky.

Wheat growled and stopped. Looking back he watched as Cowdry bounced up, holding on for dear life. Definitely not a natural horseman. Wheat had to put out a hand and catch the reins to stop him. This va-lay obviously didn't know how to stop a horse!

"Thank you," Cowdry gasped in relief. "I'm sorry if I said something to upset you."

"Naw, ya didn't. Come on."

Wheat turned back the way they had been heading. They rode in silence, Cowdry trying to calm his breathing.

"What exactly does a va-lay do?" Wheat asked suddenly.

"I look after Mr Curry's clothes and personal possessions. I dress him sir."

"Ya dress him!"

Cowdry shuddered. "Well not literally sir. I make sure his clothes are laundered and in good order. I make sure they are ready when he wants them. I have to anticipate his requirements and that's not always easy. It can be a challenge. Mr Curry's movements are sometimes hard to predict."

"So that's all ya do huh? Sheesh! That's a real cushy job."

"Not really sir. Somedays several changes of clothes are required. I can be quite rushed off my feet. And that's if we remain at home. If there's an appointment away from home, I have to know the number of days we'll be away, what the purpose of the journey away is so I can anticipate Mr Curry's requirements. It can be quite demanding and complicated." Cowdry grinned. "But I don't get it wrong too often and I think Mr Curry appreciates that."

Wheat snorted and looked away, shaking his head. The Kid had a real different life now that's for sure.

*The English countries immediately surrounding London are collectively known as the Home Counties.


	8. Chapter 8

Settling Wheat – Part Eight (Starts to Make Sense)

Morning found Lom Trevors, puzzling over the events of the previous night. In particular how Jeremiah Curry fitted into all this. He was vaguely aware of the name but didn't know who or what he did. A trip to the Town Hall solved that mystery. Having looked through the Register of Businesses for Laramie County, he discovered that Jeremiah Curry was the proprietor of the McKeever Paper Mill at Longwater, a town forty miles away.

Lom's next stop was at the office of the Porterville Bugle. Newspapers had to get their supplies of paper from someone. Maybe Craig Carmichael, the editor, could tell him a bit more about Jeremiah Curry.

Craig could.

"Yeah, I know Jeremiah Curry."

"You buy your paper from him?"

No. I buy mine from Sam Flixton's mill over at Hardy City. Better quality and cheaper. He makes his paper from wood pulp. Old Jeremiah still makes his from rags."

Lom's eyes widened. Until Craig mentioned it, he hadn't given a thought to how paper was made or what from. It was one of those things that just was.

"Is that not good then?" Lom asked slowly, not wanting to show his ignorance too clearly in front of this better educated man.

"Oh making paper from rags is old fashioned these days. Most rag mills are converting to using wood pulp."

"Ya don't say."

Craig grinned. "Kinda surprising isn't it?"

Lom spread his hands along the counter and tapped his fingers as he considered how much, if anything, further he should say. He lowered his voice.

"Gotta couple of fellas in my jail right now. Brought 'em in last night. They say they're working for Nathan Bloodstone, the Cheyenne agent at the Department of Land Management. They reckon HE'S working for Jeremiah Curry."

Craig shrugged. "Dunno about that sheriff but if it helps, Jeremiah Curry IS Nathan Bloodstone's brother-in-law."

Lom growled and rubbed his chin. So he'd established a connection if nothing else. "The mystery deepens," he murmured.

Craig grinned. "Oh, I can deepen it still further Sheriff! Jeremiah Curry made Sam Flixton an offer for his wood pulp mill a while back. When Sam turned him down, Jeremiah got nasty."

"How nasty?"

"Sam didn't want to tell me. Think he was embarrassed."

"Sounds like I should pay Sam a visit."

Craig sensed a scoop. "Sounds like I oughta come with you. Make the introductions. Sam might tell you more if I'm there."

Lom hesitated, knowing exactly what was going through Craig's mind. "Okay but this is an ongoing investigation. You can't print anything until I tell ya. Is that understood?" Lom shook his finger in warning.

"Whatever you say sheriff. I'll get my coat."

Craig darted out back and returned slipping it on.

"Think I'm gonna stop at Amnesty on the way." Lom said. "There's a fella there who'll be mighty interested in all this."

"Joshua? How is he? I heard he was hurt pretty bad."

"Yeah he is. Got pneumonia now by all accounts but it's not him I wanna see. His cousin's back, Thaddeus Jones. He helped me bring those two in last night."

Craig looked thoughtful. "Oh, really? That's … interesting."

Lom frowned. "What d'ya mean? Why's that interesting?"

Craig started. "Oh nothing sheriff." He grinned. "Nothing at all."

Lom looked at him suspiciously but decided to leave it.

"Let's go."

On the road out of town, they met Doctor Ben Albright. He was also going out to Amnesty to check on Heyes. The three of them rode on together, chatting.

"How is he?" the Kid asked, softly as he tiptoed across the bedroom to Mary.

The Kid had returned to Amnesty in the small hours of the morning, after helping Lom and Bart secure the Bulmer brothers in Porterville's jail. He had snatched a few hours' sleep and was now looking in on his partner.

Heyes appeared to be asleep, propped up in a semi-reclining position. His head tilted over one shoulder and his eyes closed.

Mary set aside her sewing and looked up at the Kid. She looked tired and anxious. Dark circles surrounded her eyes and if he wasn't mistaken, she appeared to have lost weight.

"He's restless."

"Mary let me sit with him awhile. You look done in."

"No I … ." Mary started to protest but the Kid was firm.

"Mary you'll be no good to him if you don't get some rest. I know you're worried. I am too. I promise I'll wake ya if there's any change."

As he spoke, he eased her out of the chair and to the door.

"Okay. Any change Jed. For good or for … ."

"Yes I promise. Go."

He all but pushed her out of the door and closed it firmly behind her.

Sighing he sat down in the vacated chair and looked across at his restless partner. There was a cloth over his forehead.

"I knew ya ill and Mary's been on her own with ya. She's been through a lot these last few days, Heyes, with ya laid up the way ya are and now this. Said I'd spell her for a while so she can get some sleep. Not that I expect she will. She's real worried 'bout ya."

A groan from the bed and the Kid got up. Heyes was fidgety. The more he fidgeted the more he hurt himself. His broken arm was immobilised to the bed to stop him moving it too much. His injured leg was outside the bedcovers. It was obviously paining him as he was twitching to get some relief. The twisting about was hurting his ribs and he was gasping for breath.

"Hey, hey, hey, Heyes ya alright. Rest easy now."

The Kid put his hands on Heyes' shoulders and held him firmly. For a moment, the brown eyes rolled open, saw him and then closed again. The Kid changed the cool cloth over his partner's forehead and bathed his cousin's, sweat soaked face and neck. The rasping of his breathing was grating on the ears and it sounded painful. The Kid wished there was something else he could do to ease it but there was nothing. Heyes was dosed up on laudanum as it was and Mary looked to have held an herbal infusion of sorts under his nose to help him breathe not long before she had left. The water was still warm.

As Heyes quietened, the Kid sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"Something strange is going on Heyes and I dunno what."

Heyes had seemed reassured that he was there. Perhaps the sound of his voice would help so he began to talk about yesterday's adventures.

"Let me tell ya what's happened so far. Me and Cowdry went to look at that land I told ya about. Remember? In the letter I got in response to my enquiry."

No answer from the bed.

"Anyway we went and had a look. It's a real nice piece of land, Heyes. Ya gotta see it. Big ole lake in the middle. I rode round it. Took me 'bout two hours I guess but I did stop and have a look see if there was any fish biting. And there was. Couldn't make out what sort though. They were right out in the middle y'know. I could just see the little ripples on the surface they make when they come up to feed. You and me and our boys can have lots of fun out there. Hey maybe even get a boat."

The Kid glanced over to the bed and it's comatose occupant. He sighed. How many times in the past had he sat at this man's bedside waiting for him to wake up? Too many. Just goes to show that nothing really changes. Just the circumstances.

He sighed again.

"Up on the hill above the lake is the perfect place to build a house for me and Caro and the kids. I can just see it. Big ole rambling house, with a big wide terrace out back overlooking the lake. Steps leading down to a lawn. Where the boys can run about. They don't get to do that too often in Boston." He paused. "Boys should run around don't ya think?"

No answer so he pressed on.

"We did. Playing all sorta games. Hide and seek. Tag. Cowboys and Indians." The Kid gave a small laugh. "Outlaws and lawmen. I bet your boys will join in as well."

Still no answer.

"So I rode round the lake and when I got back to where I'd left Cowdry, he'd gone. First, I thought I had the wrong spot, y'know. So I rode on a bit. But I hadn't." He paused. "I wish ya were awake Heyes. This is a serious mystery. Reckon you'd have an idea what this is all about. Anyway I got down and looked at the ground."

The Kid grinned. "Y'know like the champeen tracker of southern Utah woulda done. Whoever he was." He chortled and then sobered. "Somebody kidnapped Cowdry, Heyes."

From the bed, there was a groan and Heyes moved his head from over one shoulder to the other. Short interlude while the Kid changed the cool, damp cloth on Heyes' forehead again.

"Hell ya burning up Heyes," the Kid murmured as he sat down again. "I didn't know what to do at first Heyes. In the old days, I would have lit out after him. But I couldn't. I didn't have my gun. So I came back here and got Wheat. Felt kinda strange wearing a gun again. Wheat kept looking at me as if I was gonna shoot myself in the foot any moment." He sighed with regret. "I ain't fast no more Heyes. I know that but I can still hit what I aim at. I know I can do that. That sorta thing don't leave ya."

The Kid sighed and looked away.

"Me and Wheat followed the trail to a cabin in the woods not too far away. We kept watch for a while 'till we worked out how to play it. Then things started to happen. Cowdry came out. A moment later, a man comes out with him, holding him at gunpoint. And get this. Wheat knows him. Not real well. Knows of him more like. Cowdry goes into the outhouse and the man, Rickon Bulmer, Wheat tells me he's called, stands outside waiting. He starts to look a little uncomfortable. Y'know like he wants to … use the facilities … if ya know what I mean."

The Kid chuckled.

"Yeah and he did. The next thing we know he's hammering on the outhouse door and hollering "let me in I gotta go." Funniest thing I've seen in a long time. He darn near had his pants down afore Cowdry could get out of there! Me and Wheat took the opportunity to get Cowdry away. Boy was he glad to see us. He was okay. Bit shaken up. Now Wheat reckoned this Rickon Bulmer had a brother, Clyde and I know we tracked three horses. I reckoned Clyde was still in the cabin. Yeah and he was until he comes running out like his tail was on fire. And I reckon it was too 'cos he started pounding on the outhouse door as well."

The Kid chuckled again. "Cowdry cooked them up a stew. And he gave 'em both the s**ts didn't he? Ha Ha Heyes ya shoulda seen it."

Only a groan came from the bed.

"Cowdry told us what happened. They thought he was you, Heyes. And they were working for some fella called Bloodstone. Now that name rang a bell. Couldn't remember at the time but I do now. Bloodstone is the name of the man who wrote me about the land I looked at it. Now ain't that a coincidence? How many folks ya know by the name of Bloodstone? Ain't exactly common is it? From what Cowdry had learnt, he put two and two together and he thinks they wanted ya to break into a safe. Ah, now that don't sound too legitimate to me Heyes. There's a lot more to this. This jus' can't be right. Going around kidnapping folks, threatening them with dire consequences if they didn't co-operate 'cos they thought he was somebody he ain't."

The Kid sighed and shook his head.

"Cowdry's a good man, Heyes. He has surprising talents. For a city boy and an Englishman, he's made of the right stuff. Not much fazes him y'know."

The Kid winced.

"It kinda did when I asked him to go back in there and help us get the drop on the Bulmers though."

He nodded.

"But he done it, Heyes. Me and Wheat hid ourselves in the bedroom. We could hear every word. Then Clyde says to Cowdry "You get back in that bedroom." Now Cowdry knows he needs to keep the Bulmers outta the bedroom. Least until they're both there. So Cowdry says to him, and I'm proud of my man Heyes, in a haughty English voice he says, "I can't do that, I've got these pots to wash up. If I leave them, they'll dry up and it'll be hard to shift. And while I'm about it, I'll clean out your cupboards as well. They don't look like they've been done for a good long while." He kept going on like that. Poor ole Clyde couldn't get a word in. Now that, sounds just like you."

The Kid chuckled again. He looked at the bed and the now silent man in it. "What's the betting a man can have two partners who can talk ya ears off, huh? Sheesh! Guess I'm just unlucky that's all."

"Now where was I? Ah yes. Wheat and me weren't sure that Rickon was there yet. Had to make sure both of them were in the cabin afore we sprung our surprise. Then we heard him, groaning how he don't feel too good and he was going to go lie down. And Clyde arguing with him that he didn't feel too good either and one of 'em had to stay and watch their prisoner and that he, Clyde was gonna take first turn in the bedroom. Ole Wheat and me looked at each other and thought it was about time to go in. So we came out and got the drop on 'em. Real easy. Neither of 'em was in any kinda state to put up a fight. Dunno what Cowdry put in that stew. All I can say is I don't intend to get on the wrong side of him anytime soon." The Kid rolled his eyes at the thought.

"So we got 'em all tied up tight. Wheat and Cowdry came back here and I rode into Porterville to get Lom. Had a real nice chat with your father-in-law while I was waiting for Lom. He was minding the store while Lom was out."

There was a groan from the bed. The Kid looked over. Heyes was moving a little but he wasn't thrashing about as he had been before. There was nothing he could do for him. Just make sure Heyes didn't injure himself.

"Cut a long story short, Lom and me and his deputy. Bart is it? Now he's a funny fella. Keep looking at me as if I was gonna shoot him. When we got back to the cabin and picked up the Bulmer brothers. Ewuh! Heyes they sure did stink. Both of 'em had … y'know. Anyway ya get the picture. I don't wanna describe it!"

The Kid rolled his eyes.

"Lom wasn't best pleased at the thought of having those two in his nice, clean, sweet smelling jail. So when we got back to town …. It's the middle of the night by now … he rouses the bathhouse manager and insists he stoke the fires up there and then and gets 'em both to take a bath 'for he'd allow them anywhere near."

The Kid chuckled. "'Course they had no clothes to change into. So they had to scoot from the bathhouse to the jail in just a blanket. Anyway, once they're ensconced in their nice warm cell. I know that's a big word but I know big words now."

A grunt from the bed.

"Lom starts to ask them what it is all about. Well at first, they don't want to say but after a while, I figure they came to the conclusion that things might go easier on 'em if they told what they know."

The Kid sniffed.

"As Cowdry said they were working for Bloodstone but HE is working for someone called Jeremiah Curry. Now ain't that a coincidence? Almost the same name as me. And get this. Think he wants to buy Pine Lake and the Bulmer brothers were hired to stop anyone nosing around the place. That's where Bloodstone comes in. He's the land agent responsible for the sale on behalf of the government and I reckon he's crooked Heyes. There's some dirty deal going on in the background. 'Cos Bloodstone wrote to ME about Pine Lake as a possible site for my house building venture. I'm now beginning to think the letter to me was a mistake. I think he got the wrong Curry. Our names being so similar an' all."

The Kid shook his head. "The Bulmers didn't know too much more about it. Just that Jeremiah Curry and Bloodstone are in cahoots somehow. Oh the only other thing they said … and I dunno how this fits in or even what it means. Clyde said something about finding fibrous talc."

The Kid shrugged.

"What the heck is fibrous talc? And what d'you use it for?"

There was a noise from the bed and the Kid looked over. Heyes was breathing heavily and groaning. He was mumbling something that the Kid couldn't make out. The Kid got up and went across. He had to listen closely before he worked out what Heyes was saying over and over.

"Paper," Heyes gasped.

"Paper?" the Kid frowned. "Man you're really outta it ain't ya?"

While he was there, he changed the cool towel on Heyes' forehead.

"Paper." Heyes sounded firmer this time, his face screwed up in frustration. "Paper."

"Heyes, ya delirious now. It's okay. I'm here, Heyes."

Heyes was starting to thrash again and the Kid had to hold him firmly.

"Making …" Heyes was fighting something.

"Heyes, calm down."

"Study. Book. Oh!"

Heyes was out again. The Kid felt him go floppy. When he was sure he was still the Kid bathed his face and neck again.

"Ah, partner you're in a bad way aren't you."

Over brunch later, the Kid was telling Wheat and Cowdry how Heyes was.

"He's delirious. Well outta it."

"Is he saying anything?" Wheat asked. "They always say things they don't mean to when they're outta their heads. Y'know is he saying anything …. ." He glanced nervously at the door and grinned mischievously. "'bout Mary?"

"Wheat! That's no way to talk about a lady. And that's Heyes' wife!"

Wheat had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Yeah, I's sorry."

The Kid attended to buttering toast for a moment. "He did say something." He waved his buttery knife in Wheat's direction. "Not 'bout Mary!" He frowned. "Kinda didn't make any sense. He said paper a few times. Got quite agitated about it. Then when I tried to calm him down, he said he was making something. Dunno what." He shrugged. "Then study book. I dunno. Crazy talk that's all."

Cowdry frowned.

"Sir, Mr Heyes has a study doesn't he?"

"Yeah?"

"Does it have books in it?"

The Kid widened his eyes. "Oh ye-ah. Lotta books."

"Sir may I take a look?"

"What are you thinking Paul?"

Cowdry hesitated. "Well I'm not sure sir. Perhaps Mr Heyes wasn't saying study book. Maybe he was saying, in the study there's a book."

Wheat chortled. "He sure got that right. One whole wall, floor to ceiling, full of books."

The Kid ignored him and looked at Cowdry. "Go on."

Cowdry hesitated again. "Well perhaps paper and making aren't just random words," he said, slowly. "Perhaps they're linked say as paper making. Mr Heyes might have been suggesting we look in his study for a book on paper making."

There was silence. Cowdry was beginning to think he had it wrong when the Kid put aside his knife. "Cowdry that's … Let's go find out, huh?" Over the years, he had come to understand how Heyes' mind worked. He couldn't necessarily come up with convoluted plans himself but he understood, once Heyes explained to him, how things how he had put things together.

The three of them trooped across the hall and into Heyes' study. The Kid puffed when he opened the door. As Wheat said, one complete wall was floor to ceiling books. And there were piles on the desk, on the cabinets, on the chaise lounge. Every flat surface seemed to have a book on it. Even the floor had several stacks on it.

"Sheesh! Where do we start?" the Kid asked running a hand through his hair.

"We'll have to be systematic sir."

The Kid took a deep breath. "Okay Paul where do YOU suggest we start?"

"We may not be looking specifically for a book on papermaking but any book where papermaking might be described. Like in an encyclopaedia for example. Let's start there."

"Good idea," muttered Wheat.

The Kid ignored him. "Okay let's look for encyclopaedias. You start over there Wheat. I'll start on the desk and Paul the shelves."

"How d'ya spell encyclopaedia?" Wheat asked.

"E-N … ." the Kid started, frowned and then grinned. "Say Wheat go an' get us some coffee huh? I reckon we're gonna need it."

Wheat grinned. "Sure thing Kid," he said before scooting out, much to his relief that he didn't have to look through books.

Wheat had delivered the coffee and disappeared to check on his horse. The Kid had rolled his eyes and muttered if Wheat did anymore checking on his horse, he wouldn't be surprised if he brought the horse into the house for dinner. Obviously ONE of them was suffering from separation anxiety.

"Ah! Here we are sir," Cowdry said, in triumph. "Encyclopaedia Britannica – American edition. Now let's see A to C, D to E, F to G. This one."

The Kid made space on the desk so Cowdry could put the selected volume down.

"We're going straight for fibrous talc?" he queried as Cowdry flicked through to F.

"Yes sir. If there's nothing here we'll look in the P to R volume."

The Kid nodded and motioned for him to get on with it. He stood patiently by Cowdry's side as he flicked through the pages and peered with interest when the searching finger stopped at the entry for fibrous talc. They swapped glances.

"What's it say?" the Kid whispered.

Cowdry studied the entry with a frown.

"Oh! Ah! I see!"

"Cowdry!" the Kid growled in frustration.

To his further annoyance, Cowdry turned and reached for P to R and began to flick through that volume.

"Got it! I understand now!" Cowdry grinned smugly.

"Care to share, Hey … Cowdry?" The Kid licked his lips – he'd almost said Heyes then.

"Yes sir. Listen to this. Fibrous talc is a mineral made up of Magnesic Oxide, Silica and Oxygen. It's a form of soapstone sir. Here's a drawing."

Cowdry showed him the non-descript drawing.

"It's a rock."

"Yes sir but it goes on, "Fibrous talc is largely employed in the paper-making process. And in here sir." He turned to the other open volume and read, "Fibrous talc is used in three stages of the paper making process. One as a filler. Two as a means of reducing clogging of the machinery. Three as a coating. The high brightness of the talc reduces the need for expensive whitening agents and coats the paper with a gloss. Talc gives the paper smoothness, reduces yellowing and porosity. Most talc deposits are in the Eastern States but there has been promising signs of significant deposits in some Western States. If these turn out to be viable, it would be extremely advantageous to papermakers in that part of the country, reducing the cost of transportation and purchasing of supplies."

Cowdry gave the Kid a smug grin. The Kid looked back blankly.

Before either of them could say anything further they were interrupted by the sound of horses pulling up outside. The Kid frowned.

"It's Lom and the Doc and … I think that's the editor of the paper. Let's go see what they want."


	9. Chapter 9

Settling Wheat – Part Nine (Flixton Mill)

"Lom surprised to see you here this morning. Thought you'd be looking after ya guests," the Kid grinned as he met them at the door. John Beecher, Heyes' liveryman-cum-gardener, with Wheat's help, collected the three horses and led them away back to the stables.

"Nope, Bart's doing that. I've been investigating our little mystery. Craig and me have something real interesting to tell ya."

"So do we, Lom. First, let me make some introductions. Lom this is Paul Cowdry. Paul this is Sheriff Lom Trevors, Craig … ."

"Carmichael."

" … and Doc Albright."

The five men greeted each other and shook hands.

"I'm going to go check on Joshua," said Ben. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen."

As Ben made his way upstairs, Lom followed the Kid and Cowdry into the study. After clearing some space so they could all sit down, they swapped the information they had gleaned from their various sources. With one notable exception. Conscious that Craig wasn't aware of the identity of Thaddeus Jones, the Kid didn't mention the letter about Pine Lake. He would take Lom aside later. Craig had been taking notes in shorthand and when they had swapped information, he summarised what they now knew. When he had finished, the Kid nodded.

"Sounds 'bout right to me. So ya reckon that Sam Flixton can tell us more?"

"I should think so. I'm sure Sheriff Trevors can persuade him to tell us just how Jeremiah Curry threatened him. Especially now this is a wider investigation."

"Mind if I tag along with ya?" the Kid asked.

Lom looked at Craig to answer. He shrugged. "Why not? You can tell me all about Boston on the way," Craig grinned. For a long time he had suspicions as to who Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones really were and being a newspaperman he was always on the lookout for a story. He was well aware that Jedidiah "Kid" Curry had met and married an heiress and now lived in Boston. Anything Mr Jones told him on the way over to Hardy City would be stored away for possible future use.

As they prepared to leave, Ben was making his way downstairs.

"How's Josh?" the Kid asked.

"Better. Much better. He's fever has broken and he's lot cooler. Not completely out of the woods yet but getting that way." He smiled at the men's reaction and then sobered. "It's Mary I'm worried about now. She needs to rest."

"I sat with Joshua early this morning so she could get some sleep. I'm guessing she didn't," sighed the Kid.

"No I don't think she did. But she might now I've been." Ben looked expectantly at the men in front of him. "If someone would give her a break." He inclined his head more forcefully. "So she could get some sleep."

"I'll sit with Mr Heyes, sir," Cowdry volunteered.

"Thanks Paul," said the Kid, slapping him on the shoulder. "Tell you all about our little trip to Hardy City when we get back."

When Lom, Craig and the Kid reached the Flixton Paper Mill, Sam's secretary informed them that he was on the factory floor. She showed them into his office to wait for him. Before they had entered the Mill, Lom had curiously unpinned his sheriff's badge and as they waited, the Kid asked why.

"Not my jurisdiction," Lom said with some embarrassment. "Sheriff Wilcox in Hardy City and me have this informal arrangement. We don't encroach on each other's turf. I'm strictly an interested citizen here."

"The how …?"

"Craig's our front man. He's investigating a story that the sheriff of Porterville brought to his attention. Perfectly legitimate. I think they call it investigative journalism."

"Then why am I here?" the Kid asked, faintly amused at Lom's stretching of the truth.

"You? Oh, as Deputy Jones it's perfectly alright for you to be here."

"Deputy Jones?"

"Guess I forgot to tell ya. When we were bringing in the Bulmer brothers last night, I deputised ya." Lom sniffed and looked away.

"Ya did?" The Kid widened his eyes. "Don't I have to take an oath or something?"

Lom nodded. "I distinctly heard you say one. Haven't rescinded it yet that's all."

"Lom!" the Kid grinned, pretending to be shocked. "But don't the agreement between you and Wilcox extend to deputies?"

Lom pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nope. Deputies were never mentioned." Mentally he was crossing his fingers.

At that moment, Sam came in and they got to their feet.

"I understand gentlemen you have something urgent you wish to discuss with me? Craig, good to see you again."

The two men shook hands and Craig made the introductions. Afterwards the four men made themselves comfortable.

"We've come to ask you about Jeremiah Curry, Sam and what happened after you turned down his offer to buy the mill," Craig begun.

Sam looked uneasy and slightly annoyed. He knew that Lom Trevors was the Sheriff of Porterville, even if Craig hadn't said so.

"Craig, I told you that in confidence," he said, quietly.

Craig nodded. "Yes I know and I'm sorry. It's just something has come up, concerning Jeremiah Curry, which Deputy Jones here is investigating. We think Jeremiah's offer to buy your mill is tied into something bigger."

Sam still looked uneasy. "Jeremiah Curry may be a competitor and he may have said some things in the heat of the moment which I'm sure he now regrets but I've no wish to get him into trouble."

"Ya won't. 'Less he's already in trouble for something else," Lom said.

Sam scratched his cheek as he thought. It was obvious he really didn't want to talk about this.

"Sam, is Jeremiah Curry's business in trouble?" Craig asked.

Sam sighed. "Ye-ah. He still makes paper from rags. That process is inefficient. It's just not suitable for the wholesale market the way demand is these days. It's not viable anymore. There's a niche market of course but most of that business is taken by the Eastern mills where there is more call for it. Legal documents, some stocks and shares certificates are still printed on rag milled paper. Tradition and all that. The biggest use, of course, is for banknotes but that's highly controlled and regulated. I should imagine that's a difficult area to get into.

"The real trade in paper these days is in newsprint, book publishing, wallpaper, wrapping paper." He shrugged. "There are lots more paper based products than even thirty years ago. Since typewriters became popular, sheet paper is a big user and only set to get bigger. Rag milled paper would never be able to keep up with demand. Wood pulp, which I use, is cheaper, makes a better quality product, production is easier and I can make more batches, which are continuous and longer batches. It's just so much more efficient all round."

"So Jeremiah Curry is going out of business because he's still using an old-fashioned process?" the Kid asked.

Sam nodded. "Yes, that's about the size of it. No pun intended," he grinned and then saw the blank looks, sobered. "Sorry paper makers joke. Sizing is part of the process that stops dry paper from absorbing to much liquid."

"Stops the ink running?" Craig offered.

"Yes exactly." Sam cleared his throat.

The Kid had been looking thoughtful. "So the only way that Jeremiah Curry can save his business would be to convert his mill into using wood pulp instead?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. I would if I was him and wanted to continue in the paper making business." He shrugged. "Except he doesn't know the first thing about working with wood pulp. He doesn't have the contacts and he hasn't got the expertise amongst his staff. Using wood pulp is an entirely different process."

"So he tried to buy your mill so that he would gain the knowledge he needed," Craig said.

"Yes, I think that's what he was trying to do. I'm not a big player but I make a decent living for me and my family and my employees. I'm not ambitious and I'm not greedy. He offered me a fair price for it and if I were so inclined, I would have taken it. Said I could stay and run the mill as the Manager. But I've no wish to be part of a larger organisation and I like being my own boss."

"So what exactly did Jeremiah Curry say when ya turned him down?" Lom's turn to ask a question.

Sam puffed and looked reluctant to say. "Well he got a little abusive. Started making threats." He shrugged. "I think he's kinda desperate but I didn't really take him seriously."

"What sorta threats, Mr Flixton? Did you tell Sheriff Wilcox?"

Sam shook his head with a frown. "Awh! He threatened to put me outta business. Sabotage the mill. Turn my customers against me. That sorta thing. I don't rightly know how he could do that. They were just idle threats that he made on the spur of the moment."

"How d'ya know that?" Lom growled.

"Because that was two months ago and nothing has happened." Sam licked his lips nervously. "I did increase security for a while just to be sure but I really didn't expect anything to come of it," he forced out.

"Did he make any threats against you personally? Or to your family or your employees?"

Sam shook his head. "No nothing like that."

The three visitors sat in silence, deep in their own thoughts. Then the Kid spoke.

"If Curry is going out of business, how was he getting the money to buy your business?"

Sam pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I wondered about that too so I asked him that very question. He wouldn't say but I think he's got a backer."

"Could it be Nathan Bloodstone?" Craig asked.

"Possibly. They are brothers-in-law I believe."

"One other thing has come up in all this. Where does fibrous talc come into?" the Kid asked.

Sam suddenly grinned. "Well it's not exactly a secret. It's used extensively in the papermaking process. In the wood pulp process that is. It's useful stuff and worth it's weight in gold. But it's difficult and expensive to get hold off. Not much of it occurs naturally in these parts. And I … ." He glanced at Craig. "Well I use it slightly differently from other papermakers. It gives me my edge. Keeps me afloat when other mills this size wouldn't be able to compete against larger competitors."

"And how is that?" the Kid asked.

Sam laughed. "THAT gentlemen is my trade secret. I can tell you it's a rather complicated formula I worked out which gives a distinctive finish. It's known only to me and I keep it locked in the safe over there." He pointed to a small safe in the corner.

Lom and the Kid swapped glances and smiled as the penny dropped. That would explain why the Bulmer brothers thought Heyes could be of use! With that, the visitors got up.

"Thank you Mr Flixton you've been a great help."

"Sure have."

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you investigating?"

Lom looked at the Kid. "Deputy?"

"We think Jeremiah Curry is mixed up in a crooked land deal. There was mention of fibrous talc. When we looked up what it was, it led us on the papermaking trail."

Sam nodded. "Well if Jeremiah Curry can buy some land that has a large deposit of fibrous talc on it then yes … ." He sighed. "He could hold me to ransom. Like I said it's very useful stuff and if I can get it cheaper and be assured of supply … ." He left it hanging but they all caught the implication. Another piece in the puzzle fell into place.

Back at Amnesty, Cowdry was sitting with Heyes as promised. To amuse himself he was reading one of the dime novels he had confessed to having and chuckling at the exploits of the hero, Storm Tempest. He had rolled his eyes at the name but conceded having a hero called Colin Watkins probably wouldn't sell many copies. So ignoring the name, he read on.

"Something funny?" asked a weak voice from the bed.

Cowdry looked up and over at the bed. "Mr Heyes you're awake." He got up and went over. Heyes watched him all the way.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Cowdry sir. Mr Curry's valet."

"Oh." Heyes smiled weakly. "Yeah, I remember now." He swallowed with difficulty.

"I'll get you some water sir." Cowdry reached for the jug and poured a glass. He helped Heyes raise his head and let him drink.

"Thank you. That's better."

"Can I get you anything else sir? Your wife sir?"

"No, not yet. I need to be more awake to cope with Mary's fussing," he said, ruefully.

"She means well sir."

"Oh I know. I'm not a man who can tolerate too much fussing Mr Cowdry and er … well she's done a lot just lately."

"Yes sir," Cowdry smiled. He understood and sat down. "How do you feel sir?"

"Um," Heyes frowned. "Not sure just yet. Better I think." He licked his lips. "Is the Kid around? Mr Curry?"

"No sir. He's gone with Sheriff Trevors and Mr Carmichael to Hardy City."

Heyes raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

"They've gone to see Samuel Flixton, the owner of the Flixton Paper Mill. Sheriff Trevor is investigating a matter."

"Oh." Heyes frowned. "Paper? I was dreaming 'bout paper."

"Yes sir. You've been delirious sir."

"Ye-ah, odd thing to dream 'bout though."

Cowdry knew it wasn't his place to divulge anymore. An awkward silence ensued with Heyes looking at Cowdry.

"How'd you get on with the Kid?" Heyes frowned the question, suddenly.

"Sir?" Cowdry wasn't expecting the question.

Heyes licked his lips. Although technically Cowdry worked for the Kid, they behaved together more as … partners. Heyes found that unsettling but he didn't know exactly why. He swallowed hard.

"You get on okay together?" He was sharper than he intended.

"Yes sir," Cowdry smiled. "Mr Curry is a good man to work for."

"Yeah," Heyes sighed.

Cowdry hesitated. "If not a little unusual sir. I think I understand his requirements now sir."

Heyes grunted. "Ha! His requirements," he muttered. "Yeah he has a lot of them." He looked at Cowdry. "Good, I'm glad someone is looking out for him in Boston. Stop him getting himself into trouble."

Cowdry smiled. "I try my best sir. I don't always succeed though."

Heyes smiled. "Okay Mr Cowdry I'm ready to go back to sleep now but I ought to see my wife first. Otherwise I'll never hear the last of it," he said, rolling his eyes at the last.

"Yes sir." Cowdry got up. "I'll fetch her for you."

As Cowdry left the room, Heyes sighed. That man spent as much time with the Kid as he used to. He understood why that was these days but that didn't stop the stab of jealousy he felt at the thought. Once they had decided to settle down, with a wife and family, it was inevitable their relationship would change once. Heyes didn't exactly long for the old days but there were times when he missed having the Kid around to talk with. If the Kid bought the piece of land he was considering, then he might see him more often and that would be nice. Real nice.

Heyes took a deep breath and steeled himself for some serious fussing.

As the three men rode away from the Flixton Paper Mill, there was a number of questions on their minds.

"So there might be valuable mineral rights at Pine Lake," the Kid started. "That would explain why Jeremiah Curry is so interested in it."

Craig was mulling over something else. "The Government had a mineral survey* taken all over Wyoming just before it became a state. Perhaps something was discovered then."

"And Bloodstone would be in a position to know about that wouldn't he? Being the local agent for the Department of Land Management," the Kid surmised.

Craig nodded. "He'd have to."

"Then I'm betting Jeremiah knows it too," the Kid grinned.

"Yep," Lom nodded in agreement.

"But if there is valuable mineral rights at Pine Lake, surely the Government wouldn't want to sell?" the Kid asked with a frown. "Wouldn't it look to exploit them itself?"

"True but I guess that depends on what it was. As I understand it, the local agent is responsible for scheduling land for release," Craig shrugged. "If Bloodstone thought he could get away with it … ."

"And if Bloodstone knew there was a significant deposit of fibrous talc at Pine Lake …." the Kid started.

"And if he also knew that if Jeremiah Curry could secure it … ," Craig continued.

"Then Pine Lake might just find itself on the next schedule of land for release and a letter might just get written to Jeremiah telling him that. If that letter was mixed in with all the replies to enquires about land, no one would be any the wiser," the Kid finished, feeling a Heyes-like smugness coming on. "Bloodstone and Curry are conspiring to defraud the government for their own gain." Then he frowned. He'd mentioned a letter. Would Craig notice?

"Now we don't know that, er Jones," Lom intervened, sending the Kid a look. The Kid had told him about the letter and the apparent mix up over the names. He'd noticed and was warning the Kid to be careful. As to the conversation, he could see where this was headed and while he agreed that is what it looked like, as yet, there was no proof.

"So to prove our theory, first off we should find out if there ARE mineral rights at Pine Lake. And if so, are they fibrous talc?" Craig said, seemingly unaware of the Kid's slip.

"There is no WE Craig. You're not part of this." Lom growled.

Craig grinned. "You think?"

"I know," Lom said, firmly. "This is an official investigation by official officers of the law."

"And me," said the Kid innocently and smiled when Lom gave him a look.

"Look back to OUR case. How do we find out about mineral rights?" the Kid asked. "We can't go and ask Bloodstone straight out. He's not likely to tell us." He paused. "Or would he?" He winced. "Awh! I wish Hey.. Joshua was well enough to talk to about all this."

"Your man, Cowdry is pretty smart. He figured out what fibrous talc was used for," Lom said.

"Yeah he did." The Kid frowned thoughtfully. "I like the idea of going to see Bloodstone though. Get the measure of him."

"They'll know about mineral rights at the Capitol," Craig shrugged.

"Ya can't just waltz in there and ask. Not if it's secret," Lom said. "And not without them asking a lot of difficult to answer questions." He shook his head. "I'd rather keep this under wraps until we've got the complete picture. Technically, nothing illegal has actually happened yet. Not anything we can prove definitively anyway."

"Well there was Cowdry's kidnap!" the Kid spluttered.

"True but we have the two men responsible for that. The rest is hearsay. Bloodstone and Jeremiah are gonna deny even knowing the Bulmer brothers, let alone admit that they were working for them. The only thing we know for certain that connects Bloodstone and Curry is that they are brothers-in-law and the last time I looked that wasn't a crime."

"So what do we do?" the Kid asked. "There's something wrong here. We can't just ignore it, Lom."

"No but this is a way outta my depth, Jones. Thefts, murders and drunken cowboys I can handle but fraud?" Lom shook his head, with a sigh.

"You could bring in Bannerman?" Craig suggested.

"NO!" the Kid and Lom said together.

Craig smiled in amusement. "Okay, just a suggestion." He paused. "Any reason why you … ?"

He got no further as Lom and the Kid talked over each other to shut him down. The two non-newshounds swapped frustrated glances at their not so subtle dismissal of the Bannerman Detective Agency. Lom knew Craig had sniffed a story here. He doubted he had heard the last of it.

"No, if we're gonna investigate this, and I think someone should, then we need to find all the pieces of the puzzle first," Lom said, with a frown.

"And how do we go about doing that?" the Kid asked.

"Well Deputy Jones, ya're a wealthy man these days, perhaps you oughta make an offer to buy Pine Lake and see what the reaction is." He shrugged. "If Bloodstone sells it to ya without a murmur then we're on the wrong track. And I guess we take it no further." The last he directed at the Kid, in warning.

The Kid nodded. He got it. Don't do anything rash.

Beside them, Craig frowned. He'd never considered that a man like Kid Curry would listen to anyone else other than perhaps Hannibal Heyes. Apparently he did. Interesting!

"Cowdry!"

If you have ever tried to shout quietly, then you know it doesn't quite work but that's what the Kid tried as he walked into the hall of Amnesty. He stood stripping off his gloves.

"Here, sir," Cowdry said behind him, making the Kid jump.

"I wish you wouldn't do that!" the Kid said, crossly, then seeing Cowdry had come from the study. "What were you doing in there?"

Cowdry looked guilty. "I'm sorry sir. I thought I'd look to see if I could find anymore references to papermaking or fibrous talc."

"And did ya?"

Cowdry shook his head. "No sir … but then I've only been downstairs ten minutes or so. Mr Heyes is awake, sir."

The Kid grinned. "Ah, that's good news." He glanced upstairs. "Is Mary …?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll leave 'em then. Let's get some coffee and I'll tell ya all about my trip to Sam Flixton's Mill."

Cowdry grinned and followed the Kid into the kitchen.

When they were both sitting at the kitchen table, mugs of hot coffee in front of them … well tea in Cowdry's case, the Kid related what had happened.

"You and me Paul are gonna pay a visit to Mr Bloodstone and see what he has to say about Pine Lake."

Cowdry looked doubtful. "Yes sir." He hesitated. "Is that wise sir?"

Over the years, the Kid had learnt to pick up on Cowdry's diplomatic words of warning. Having disregarded them to his cost in their early acquaintance, he now treated them with respect. The Kid considered what to say before he answered.

"Bloodstone wrote to me about Pine Lake. If the Bulmer brothers hadn't kidnapped you, I wouldn't know about any of this and I would be going into see him anyway. Now that I know there's something strange going on here, I'm even more of a mind to go see him BUT as far as Bloodstone is concerned I'm just a perfectly innocent prospective purchaser of a piece of land. I've just been part of a mix up over the names that's all. If he explains and is prepared to consider selling me Pine Lake then … ." He shrugged. "If he says anything else then I'll know I have a problem and I'll take it from there."

Cowdry swallowed. "Will you … ." He looked down at his mug of tea and swallowed. Mr Curry allowed him a lot of slack in their relationship but Cowdry never presumed. Or at least he hoped he don't.

"Will I what?"

"Take your gun sir? The one you're … wearing I mean."

The Kid grinned. "No Paul I won't be wearing this gun. I'll almost certainly have that itsy bitsy derringer on me though."

Cowdry smiled in relief. "How long will we be away sir?" he asked, a perfectly natural question when told Mr Curry was making a trip.

"Couple of days I should think. So pack a day suit and some changes. Did we bring the grey Fisk and Cushing*?" The Kid referred to a favourite suit made by a renowned tailor in Boston.

"No sir, I didn't think you would be requiring the use of it here. I did bring the grey David Quilley though sir. Just in case." Cowdry referred to a suit made by a tailor of less distinction.

"Oh well that'll have to do," the Kid sighed. He looked disgruntled. He liked his Fisk and Cushing suit and he felt confident wearing it. "Hey! Of course it will do! Don't want to waste the Fisk on a crook like Bloodstone do we?"

Cowdry grinned. "No sir."

*I discovered a mineral survey which gave me the whole idea for this part of the story was published in 1911. However, it is plausible that the Government might have conducted an earlier mineral survey of Wyoming prior to it becoming a State in 1890, just before this story is set.

*I plucked the name from the Boston Business directory of 1890. No idea whether they were tailors of repute but the name sounds good! David Quilley is made up.


	10. Chapter 10

Settling Wheat – Part Ten (Bloodstone

The Kid stood outside the Cheyenne Agency of the Department of Land Management. Entering official buildings still made his heart race and he swallowed hard. He glanced back at Cowdry, who consulted the piece of paper in his hand.

"This is the correct address sir," he said, confirming what the Kid already knew.

"I know. Get my back Cowdry huh?" the Kid sighed, took a deep breath and entered.

Cowdry frowned. "Yes sir," he murmured, before following. Having worked for Mr Curry for some years, he should be used to his employer's strange requests by now. Yet they never ceased to amaze him. He wasn't entirely sure why Mr Curry wanted his back got, whatever that meant. Unconsciously he glanced at his employers broad shoulders as he entered the office. No, all looked in order. No stray lengths of cotton, no smudges, marks or rents. Cowdry followed. No doubt, he would find out in due course.

Inside the office was a number of small desks occupied by clerks beavering away. In the corner at the back, there was a separate office. The glass lettering on the door said Nathan Bloodstone, Local Agent. One of the industrious clerks looked up.

"May I help you?"

"Yes y'may, mah good fellow. Mah name is Jedidiah Curry. This is mah associate, Paul Cowdry. We're heayh to see Mr Bloodstone."

The clerk stared at him open-mouthed.

The Kid frowned. He wasn't used to getting that reaction using that name. Not right off anyway. Sometimes it took a little while for realisation to dawn.

"Somethin' wrong?"

The clerk gulped. "No. No sir." His eyes dropped to the ledger on the desk.

"We don't have an appointment," the Kid said, wrongly surmising that was the problem. "But Mr Bloodstone and ah have corresponded and he is aware of the distance ah have travelled to be here. Ah'm sure he will see me."

The clerk met the confident blue eyes. Although he hadn't said anything threatening, the demeanour of the expensively dressed gentleman was intimidating.

"Yes sir. I'll tell Mr Bloodstone you're here. If you would take a seat … ." He indicated the row of chairs against the wall.

"Thank you kindly." The Kid smiled and settled himself on a chair, exuding confidence.

Cowdry hovered at his side until the Kid patted the chair next to him. Cowdry sat quickly and uncomfortably. He still found it awkward to sit in his employers company when out and about. A whispered conversation followed.

"Sir?"

"Follow my lead, Paul. You know why I'm here."

"Yes sir but, if I may, why the Southern accent?" Should he have asked? It really wasn't his place to know but curiosity had got the better of him. Cowdry looked anxious. The Kid smiled. He knew what Cowdry was thinking.

"It's alright, Paul. I learnt a long time ago that if you dress and act and speak like a wealthy gent you get a better reception. The first two I got, but speaking …. ." He shook his head. "I ain't quite there yet. Southern's the best I can do."

Paul put his head down to hide his smile.

"Yes sir. Do I need to be Southern too? Because I'm not sure I can that carry that off."

"Cowdry, you're English. That'll do fine."

"Yes sir."

"'Sides I don't expect you to talk much. I just need you to look … ." The Kid considered an appropriate word. "… knowledgeable."

"Sir?" Cowdry looked horrified. "I know nothing about land transactions!"

Before the Kid could reply, the clerk was back.

"Mr Bloodstone will see you, sir. Right this way."

The Kid smiled pleasantly and unfolded his legs, preparing to get up. "Excellent!"

He strode after the clerk like a man on a mission. Which he was. A mission to buy a considerable amount of real estate on which to build a large house for his family's summer retreat. A home, that he could truly call his. Not Caroline's and not bought with her money. He was independently wealthy these days, earning a considerable income, generated from the investment business he had unwittingly started. To buy a property in an area of the country that he loved and near his only other living relative, would be a dream come true.

If he was going to buy Pine Lake, then he wanted to get it at the best price. Even though he now lived a wealthy and comfortable life, he still appreciated the value of money. He had a fair idea how much that price should be, even without the possibility of finding a valuable mineral deposit on the land. Of course, that was a piece of information he should be blissfully unaware. Yes, money wasn't really an object but no, he wasn't going to pay anything he considered inflated. He had a price in mind but he was going to start the negotiations, if they happened, at a lot lower.

In addition, of course, if everything else failed he had a bargaining chip. If he had to use what happened to Cowdry a few days ago, he doubted Bloodstone would be in a position to refuse the sale. Some might call it blackmail. The Kid didn't see it like that. Cowdry was assaulted, kidnapped and unlawfully detained, threatened with seriously injury and death. All on Bloodstone's orders. Not that they could prove it just yet. Lom said the link to Bloodstone was tenuous and advised the Kid not to do anything rash. But he was going to hold that in reserve.

Heyes was still too ill to talk it through but the Kid been thinking. Perhaps he couldn't go after Bloodstone directly but he had sent him the letter about the land in the first place, so a meeting was in order. The Kid suspected the letter had been a mistake – intended for a Mr Jeremiah Curry not Jedidiah. Nevertheless, the confusion had caused him to view the land as detailed and that's when all the trouble had started. He had fallen in love with that piece of land and was outraged by the treatment of his man. He was determined to see justice served even if as a result he lost the opportunity to buy the land.

Bloodstone stood up as the Kid and Cowdry walked into his office.

"Mr … Curry?" he asked, holding out his hand. The handshake he gave was swift and superficial.

"Yes indeed. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. This is my associate, Paul Cowdry."

Bloodstone nodded but made no attempt to shake hands with Cowdry. Instead, he sat down and motioned for them to do the same.

The Kid and Cowdry exchanged looks. So that was how it was going to play was it?

"The Grassy Flatts land wasn't it? Fine piece of … ."

The Kid cut him off. "No sir. Ah'm here to talk about Pine Lake."

Bloodstone looked blank. "I don't understand. I wrote to you about Grassy Flatts."

"No sir. You did not. You wrote to me about Pine Lake."

Bloodstone stared for a moment, not knowing what to say.

"That's … impossible sir."

"Ah assure you it is not, sir." The Kid reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced the letter. He placed it on the desk so Bloodstone could see.

As Bloodstone read it, he got redder and redder. He chewed his lips furiously and it was plain to see that he was barely keeping his temper.

"I have your enquiry right here, Mr Curry," he said, slowly, tapping the open file in front of him. "Grassy Flatts meets all your requirements."

"It may well do so but ah have already seen Pine Lake and ah have taken a likin' to it."

Bloodstone tried a weak smile. "No sir, I can assure you. Pine Lake isn't what you're looking for. Grassy Flatts … ."

"Ah wish to make an offer of purchase for Pine Lake."

"You can't!" Bloodstone all but cried. "I mean … no one from this office has shown you around. You haven't been appraised of all the facts. There's … something wrong with it. You said you had children. Yes that's it. Not suitable for children. Grassy Flatts is well suited to the needs of growing children. That's much more to your taste."

The Kid fixed him with his old gunfighter's glance. If Bloodstone had been feeling uneasy before he definitely was now.

"How do ya know what is to my taste, sir? We have only just become acquainted," the Kid said, ominously slowly.

"I er …" Bloodstone licked his lips. To his credit, he was thinking fast. "If you don't mind me commenting, you're a southern gentleman sir. Grassy Flatts will remind you of home." Even as he said it, he knew that sounded dim but he was finding this man intimidating. It was a feeling he wasn't used to. It was usually him doing the intimidating.

The Kid took a deep breath. "Ah do not wish to be reminded of home, sir. Ah live in Boston now but ah have family in the vicinity of Pine Lake. Ah wish to be convenient to them. Pine Lake suits just fine. Now what is the price? Ah will pay anything reasonable."

Bloodstone pressed his lips together to form a thin line. He was clearly in a quandary. On one side, he was the local agent accountable to the Government to get the best price for the land sold. He was paid a retainer but most of his income was from commission on sales. On the other hand, he had the private deal with his brother-in-law, which would make them both a lot of money if it came off. It was the latter, which won out.

"I cannot accept any price for Pine Lake," he said, brusquely.

"You mean it's free!" burst out a beaming Cowdry, unable to stop himself. He found himself on the receiving end of two fierce looks.

"No. Mr … Cowley."

"Cowdry," he corrected, further irritating Bloodstone.

"No, Mr Cow-dree, that is not what I meant." Bloodstone took a deep breath in order to get hold of himself. "I merely meant that as the Government's representative in these matters, it is beholden on me to make sure that any land I sell is suitable to the client's requirements. I have to consider the reputation of the Department of Land Management in every sale I make. I do not believe that Pine Lake meets your requirements. Whereas Grassy Flatts does."

The Kid stared at him. He had come across supercilious, obsequious and unpleasant officials before but Bloodstone was right up there.

"The risk is mine, sir," the Kid said, trying not to grit his teeth too hard. "Ah have made up my mind. Ah wish to purchase Pine Lake."

"No!" Bloodstone slapped the flat of his hand on the desk and stood up. Then realising that he had let his temper get the better of him, he put a hand to his forehead. "I am sorry, Mr Curry. I cannot sell you Pine Lake. If you will not consider Grassy Flatts then I'm afraid you have wasted your time. I bid you good day, gentlemen."

Notwithstanding the curt dismissal, the Kid had already seen and heard enough. Taking back the letter, he folded it and carefully putting it back in his pocket. Then he slowly got to his feet.

"Good day to ya sir. We will not take up any more of your valuable time. Come Cowdry."

They strode briskly through the outer office and out. Just as the exterior door shut behind them, they heard Bloodstone bellowing for Templeman. No doubt one of the poor unfortunate clerks who worked there. The Kid winced. He hated to think somebody was going to get into trouble but there was nothing he could do about it.

Instead, he turned to Cowdry.

"Is it free?" he asked, incredulously of his man.

Cowdry looked shamefaced. "I'm sorry sir. It just came out."

The Kid sniffed. "Well no harm done. If anything, it pushed Bloodstone into showing his true self. We know exactly what type of man we're dealing with now."

Cowdry smiled. "Yes sir." He fought with an umbrella for a moment, opened it eventually and offered it to the Kid. "It's raining sir."

"Yes so it is." The Kid accepted it, waited for Cowdry to unfurl his before starting to walk away from the entrance of the Department of Land Management.

"Of course sir, there is one other thing my little inappropriate outburst may have done," Cowdry said, slowly, deep in thought.

"What's that Paul?"

"Bloodstone now thinks I'm a complete idiot. Which may come in handy in any future dealings you have with him."

The Kid looked at Cowdry and slowly smiled. "Paul, have I ever told you? You are one devious young man?"

Cowdry beamed. "No sir but I'll take that as a compliment sir."

The Kid burst out a short laugh.

"Paul, what do you say we take ourselves back to the hotel, get all gussied up and then go try that swanky restaurant we passed a couple of blocks back?"

The Kid and Cowdry had finished dinner and were strolling back to their hotel, through the Cheyenne streets. It was still early and the Kid was in no mood to return to the suite just yet.

"Cowdry, lets go in here for a spell, huh?"

He indicated the saloon.

Cowdry gulped. "Um, sir I don't know," he started. He was also conscious that he was very obviously dressed as an Easterner. The Kid was more informal, dressed in smart pants and jacket. And no tie! Cowdry had nearly had a fit when he saw how his employer intended to go out to dine. He had struggled with himself not to say anything.

The Kid smirked to himself as he watched the emotion play over Cowdry's face as he battled with yet another quandary.

"It looks very noisy," Cowdry said, finally shaking his head furiously.

"Exactly. We might have some fun."

Brooking no argument, the Kid pushed through the batwing doors, leaving Cowdry standing on the broad walk in dismay. Taking a deep breath, he pushed in after his employer. Down one side of the large room was a long bar. Customers crowded in front of it, shouting their orders. The four bartenders were working flat out to keep up with demand. In the middle of the room, men sat around various tables, playing cards or talking and laughing loudly. Girls skilfully weaved their way between tables carrying trays full mainly of beers. The air was a cacophony of hurdy-gurdy music, voices, laughter and sounds of the various gambling machines. To the uninitiated like Cowdry, it was overwhelming.

The Kid had no hesitation in joining the pushing crowd, despite cries of protest from the existing pushees. Cowdry followed in his wake uncomfortably aware of the odd looks he was given.

Drinks bought, the Kid and Cowdry turned to extract themselves from the melee, popping out of the back like corks from champagne bottles.

"That was a scramble sir," Cowdry puffed, clutching his jug of foaming beer. He had already lost several inches from the top in the scuffle to get out of the crowd.

"See Paul, told ya. We're having fun already," the Kid grinned.

Cowdry look doubtful. "Yes sir," he muttered.

"Saturday night, Paul. Saloons are always fun on Saturday nights. Even in the State Capitol. This is still cow country. It's the only time hands off the ranches get to let off a little steam."

"Yes sir." Cowdry went to take a sip of his beer. At the same time, he was nudged hard from behind. He nearly tipped his beer over the Kid, who just managed to jump back in time. Cowdry looked horrified but the Kid just laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Let's go and sit down away from the bar. Where it's quieter."

"Yes sir," Cowdry agreed readily, shaking his wet hand.

Most tables looked fully occupied with noisy cowhands and card players.

"Sir, over there in the corner." Cowdry had spotted a table occupied by only one man. "Do you think he would mind if we join him?"

"Let's go see."

The Kid headed in that direction. He smiled at the saloon girl who was coming the other way and they did the sidestep dance before laughing. She smiled at him appreciatively, until she noticed his wedding ring. She went on her way with a sigh of regret.

Cowdry smirked and raised his hat politely as she passed, before continuing on his original trajectory. As he got closer, something about the man on the corner table looked familiar. He frowned. Ah! He had it.

"Sir, a moment."

Despite the noise, the Kid heard and stopped. Looking back for Cowdry to catch up, he took a sip of his beer.

"What's wrong?"

"Um isn't that the clerk from the Land Office, sir?"

The Kid looked round.

"Yeah, you might be right."

"He doesn't look the sort to frequent this type of establishment sir."

"No." The Kid frowned. "Let's go over anyway."

"I think he's been drinking sir," Cowdry cautioned. "He might get … ." Cowdry smacked his lips, unwilling or unsure of how to say what he was thinking.

"Loose lipped?" the Kid grinned. "Come on. In that case we might learn something to our advantage." He was off.

No that wasn't what Cowdry wanted to say. He was going to say belligerent. To his mind, their safety was questionable in this noisy place. He looked around nervously.

At the table, the Kid stopped and smiled pleasantly. His gaze took in the half empty whiskey bottle.

"Join ya?"

The clerk looked up with sad and drunken eyes, then twitched his face and shrugged. With that, he picked up his glass and drained it. The Kid and Cowdry pulled out chairs, swapping meaningful glances. The Kid sat opposite, Cowdry to one side, looking apprehensive. The clerk reached for the bottle and refilled his glass, before tossing it back in one hit. Cowdry shot a look that said, are you sure sir? The Kid rolled his eyes and ignoring the clerk's behaviour, smiled at him.

"Sure is busy tonight. Is it always like this on a Saturday night?" He was making conversation. He had just told Cowdry all about Saturday nights.

The clerk frowned as he poured another glass for himself, slopping it over the side as his hand shook. He glanced at the speaker. He looked vaguely familiar. Then he decided he couldn't do both things and his gaze returned to whiskey pouring.

"Dunno. Don't usually come in here," He slurred, set the bottle back on the table with a thud.

"What's that ya drinking there?" The Kid didn't touch the bottle, just looked at the label that was facing him. He pulled an impressed face. "Too good to waste on getting drunk isn't it?"

"What d'you care?"

"Just making conversation."

"Not in the mood for conversation," came the mumbled reply.

The Kid and Cowdry swapped glances again. The Kid was surprised at the feeling of déjà vu that hit him. Yet he had never been in a saloon with Cowdry before. Or, any drinking establishment for that matter. The man's likeness to Heyes must be the cause.

With a flicker of a frown, the Kid turned back to the drunk. It was obvious that he wasn't a regular drinker so there had to be a reason for it.

"Mike isn't it?" Cowdry said, suddenly. He had remembered the nameplate on the clerk's desk.

The Kid looked over in surprise. Given how uncomfortable he knew Cowdry was feeling he hadn't expected him to speak. Let alone suddenly initiate a conversation.

"Yeah?" The clerk lurched in his direction, trying to focus on him. "What of it?"

"You work at the Department of Land Management. Mr Curry and I were in there earlier. We came to see Mr Bloodstone."

The Kid eyed him, wandering what he was doing. Cowdry rolled his eyes and shrugged. The Kid shuddered. A Heyes clone!

"That crook!"

The Kid and Cowdry swapped surprised glances.

"Pardon?" Cowdry asked. The Kid had sat back and folded his arms. He was happy for Cowdry to take the lead.

"Worked for him I did. Until the b*****d sacked me!"

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," Cowdry sympathised.

"I'm not," Mike growled. "He's a crook. I want nothing more to do with him!" He drained his glass and winced as the fiery liquid burnt his throat. He reached for the bottle but this time the Kid stopped him, holding it just out of reach.

"Now why do you say that, Mike?" he asked, deliberately slowly.

Mike swayed as he tried to focus. The Kid suspected the man was seeing double when he lunged for the "wrong" bottle.

"Give me that!"

"In a moment. Now why do you say Bloodstone's a crook?"

"'Cos he is!"

"Has he done something illegal?"

Mike swayed and twitched his face as if he was eating.

"Can't say," he said, finally.

"Loyalty is an admirable quality, Mike," Cowdry said. "But it can often be misplaced." He looked at the Kid, who nodded his agreement. This was so eerie! He had been in this position with Heyes so many time before. He let Cowdry continue. "Why did he sack you, Mike?"

"I worked in that office for twenty years. Had the place running like clockwork. Never put a foot wrong. 'Till HE came. Then I couldn't do anything right."

More swapped glances. Was this just sour grapes? Or was there something more to it?

Mike swayed and shook his head furiously, nearly falling off his chair. The Kid had to put out a hand to steady him.

"Careful. Ya nearly fell."

"Don't matter. Got no job. Won't be able to pay the rent by next week. Then I'll have no home either. What do I care if I fall off the damm chair?"

"Mike, why did Bloodstone sack you?" Cowdry asked again. "See … we're … ." He glanced at the Kid for confirmation and receiving the slightest of nods. "Looking to do business with Bloodstone and we're not entirely sure he's a man we can trust."

Mike tittered. "Naw! You don't want to do business with him. Keep away. Keep well away."

"That sounds like good advice, Mike but tell us what was it ya did that caused Bloodstone to sack ya?" the Kid asked, before Cowdry.

Mike shook his head in despair. "Office. Sells land for the Government. Get enquiries all the time. Bloodstone … he writes back with details of suitable parcels of land that meet requirements." He shrugged and looked sick. "Two clients, same surname, only different first name. Jeremiah and Jedidiah, Phuf!" Mike swayed alarmingly.

The Kid and Cowdry swapped glances. Bloodstone's behaviour earlier was making more sense now. Mike had just confirmed something they had already suspected. There had been a mix up with the letters but Bloodstone hadn't known about it until their visit.

"What was the surname, Mike?" Cowdry asked, gently.

Mike shook his head and made a lunge for the bottle. This time he got his hand to it but the Kid didn't let go. Mike turned drunken eyes at him and then they widened in surprise.

"You! It's you!" One more sway and his head hit the table with a thud.

Cowdry looked on in horror. Had he just witnessed a man dropping dead in front of him?

The Kid raised Mike's head.

"He's just passed out Paul, that's all."

Cowdry gulped in relief. "What do we do now sir?"

"We take him back to the hotel with us. I've a feeling he's gonna have more to tell us when he wakes up."

"Hotel?"

"Yeah, Paul. It's what the building is called we're staying in. Now help me up with him will ya."

Cowdry sighed as he got up. Being Mr Curry's valet was certainly no ordinary valeting job!


	11. Chapter 11

Settling Wheat – Part Eleven (Mike)

"Aagh!"

Cowdry blinked awake and looked over at the other bed in his room. Mike was awake.

"Aagh!"

Cowdry sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Mike was lying on his back with his hands over his face.

"Good morning!" Cowdry sang cheerfully.

"Is it?" came the reply from the depths of hands on face.

Cowdry smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm in hell," groaned Mike.

"Oh I shouldn't think so for one moment." Cowdry reached for his robe.

Hands withdrew from Mike's face. Eyes blinked and tried to focus on the robing man. Meeting with no success, they shut rapidly.

"Too bright!" Mike rolled away from the light coming from the window. "Aagh!"

"Can I get you anything?"

"No!"

"How about a cup of tea? My mother always says you can't start your day properly until you've had a good cup of tea."

"No tea," Mike groaned.

"Breakfast then? The hotel serves a particularly fine breakfast spread."

"No, leave me alone."

"Sausage, ham … well I would call it bacon but it says ham on the menu. Eggs, tomatoes, beans, saute potatoes. They're excellent in my opinion. Eating something will help soak …"

"Cowdry!"

The Kid was leaning against the door and Cowdry had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Stop torturing the poor man. Come on out and leave him be."

"Thank you. Whoever you are," Mike mumbled, gratefully. He had no idea who these two men were but even in his hungover state, he sensed they didn't mean him any harm. As to where he was. That was a nice, warm, comfortable bed, which was lulling him back to sleep. Beyond that, he didn't care right now.

The Kid inclined his head for Cowdry to move.

"But sir, I'm not dressed."

"Paul!" This time the head nod was more emphatic. Cowdry joined the Kid by the door. "Ten minutes and he'll be asleep again. Then you can come back and get dressed. Nice robe by the way."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir. My sister sent it from England for my last birthday."

The Kid shut the door of the bedroom leaving Mike in peace.

"Will he be alright sir?"

"Yeah he'll have a sore head and he'll feel like he's eaten the bottom of a bird cage for a while but yeah he'll be alright."

The Kid and Cowdry dressed and went to breakfast. Afterwards the Kid decided to look up some old acquaintances, leaving Cowdry to return to the suite. By the time the Kid got back two hours later, Mike was up and sitting on the sofa in the day room of the suite, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked tired and grey.

"Ah, sir." Cowdry leapt to his feet as the Kid came in. "This is Mike Templeton. Mike, may I present my employer, Mr Jedidiah Curry?"

"Hi Mike how ya feeling?"

Mike gave a weak smile. "Not so good but better."

"Good."

The Kid allowed Cowdry to take his jacket and he sat down on the sofa opposite Mike. Reaching for the coffee pot, he smiled at Mike.

"You passed out last night so we brought you back here. For safe keeping."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"So." The Kid sat back and crossed his legs. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "You worked for Bloodstone and now he's sacked ya."

Mike rubbed his forehead and couldn't meet the Kid's eyes. He wasn't feeling proud of himself this morning. Both because of the state he'd been in and the shame of losing his job. "Yes," he admitted, quietly.

The Kid sniffed. He would run out of fingers the number of times he and Heyes had been sacked from jobs when they were going for amnesty but now was not the time to mention that. He had sympathy for the man. It was an error but not a disastrous error and shouldn't have resulting in the loss of his job.

"I take it from what you said last night you'd mixed up some correspondence between two clients with similar sounding names."

"Ye-ah," Mike nodded and then winced and wished he hadn't.

The Kid pursed his lips. "What exactly happened? Seeing as I'm one of the names ya mixed up."

Mike sighed. There didn't seem any point in keeping it a secret.

"It was a few months ago. I had given Mr Bloodstone that day's outward mail to check and he had started to go through the pile. I usually wait while he does in case there's a query. Well this day there was.

"He suddenly explodes. "Dammit man, this is the wrong envelope! This is the letter to Mr _Jeremiah_ Curry. Who the heck is _Jedidiah_ Curry?" he says.

"I didn't know what to say so I just gulped. Nathan Bloodstone, local agent for the Department of Land Management is a difficult man to work for, Mr Curry. He's a stickler for detail. Yet he often gives my clerks and me conflicting orders.

Mike sighed. "It's no wonder we get things wrong occasionally. It's a real struggle to keep up with his demands sometimes. He takes great delight in yelling at us in the open office and he's a bully. No sir he's not a nice man at all. It's only because the job is well paid that I stayed so long and put up with him.

"Mr Bloodstone doesn't trust us not to use office stamps for personal correspondence, so he keeps the supply of stamps in his office and doles them out when required. So we have this nightly ritual where he checks all the outgoing mail, seals the envelopes himself and places the stamps on himself.

"At that moment his telephone rang, so he thrust the whole stack of letters back at me.

Just sort it out!" he barked at me, before he answered the telephone.

"I returned to my own desk in the main office and started to sort the letters out. Some way down the pile, I found the correct envelope addressed to Mr Jeremiah Curry. Well Jeremiah and Jedidiah were easily confused so all I had to do was swap the letter for Mr Jeremiah with the one for Mr Jedidiah. But um …. It wasn't quite that simple. Both letters were addressed to a Mr Curry! I had no idea which letter was meant for which Mr Curry. So I thought if I read them both I might get a clue."

Mike shook his head again and winced again.

"Both letters were virtually identical. The only difference, one mentioned a piece of land called Pine Lake, the other a piece of land called Grassy Flatts.

"Mr Bloodstone obviously knew which was which but when I looked back at the office, he was barking something down the telephone at some poor unfortunate body. He was quite red in the face. I decided I wasn't going to put myself in the line of fire again so I thought I'd try figuring this out for myself. 'Cept I'd now muddled them up and couldn't remember which letter was with which envelope.

"And then one of my junior clerk had a query and I had to get up and see to him. It was quite a while before I got back to my desk. I had just sat down when Mr Bloodstone came out of his office pulling on his coat. He stopped by my desk and slapped the sheaf of stamps down.

"Get those letters in the mail tonight. Here are the stamps," he said brusquely. "And I know how many there are!"

When Mr Bloodstone was gone, I checked the time and saw I only had ten minutes to get the letters to the Post Office before it shut.

"So I asked the other clerks to help. The three of us stuffed the letters into envelopes, and then sealed and stamped them. I sent the junior clerk to run to the Post Office with the bundle of mail with seconds to spare. It was only then that I remembered the Curry mix up. Of course, there was nothing I could do about it by then. Or indeed know if anything needed doing. I had no idea which letter went to which Mr Curry. I just had to trust to luck that it was right.

"I went and got drunk that night too."

Mike took a sip of his coffee. "I thought I'd got away with it, when nothing happened in the next few days. I figured if something was wrong, Bloodstone would get to hear about it sooner rather than later. From Jeremiah. But nothing happened. Until yesterday sir when you came in asking to see Mr Bloodstone about Pine Lake. After you … left, he called me into his office." Mike gulped. "It wasn't very pleasant. You received the letter about Pine Lake intended for Mr Jeremiah Curry. Not … not for you, sir. I'm sorry."

"Mike, there's no need for you to be sorry. It was an innocent mistake and I'm sorry ya lost ya job over it."

Mike shrugged. "Probably been there too long anyway. Got set in my ways. Maybe this is just the push I need to try something different," he said, miserably but trying to look on the bright side of his situation.

The Kid rubbed his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. "There's just one thing that bothers me about this. COWDRY! Will you sit DOWN!"

Cowdry had been hovering behind him. The Kid pointed firmly to the armchair and Cowdry hurriedly took a seat. Cowdry looked and felt like a schoolboy in trouble. The Kid gave him the look he'd used to reserve just for Heyes before turning back to Mike.

The Kid was wary of Mike. He didn't know how far he could trust him just yet and he needed more time in his company to form an opinion on that. So he would play his cards close to his chest for now and see where that lead him.

"Bloodstone's reaction. I'm a reasonable man. He coulda just explained that it was a clerical error and that Pine Lake was already sold. I'd be disappointed but that's just how life is sometimes." The Kid paused and his face turned hard. "But he didn't. He kept trying to persuade me that Grassy Flatts was a better piece of land and wouldn't answer any of my questions about Pine Lake. Now THAT puts my back up." The Kid leaned forward. "Now Mike I'm real interested in buying Pine Lake but there's something not sitting right about all this. Bloodstone's reaction was way over the top. You just might be in a position to help me and if ya do I'll make it worth ya while."

Mike looked doubtful but interested all the same. Well as much as he could with a foggy, hurting head.

"How can I do that?" he asked slowly.

"D'you know any more 'bout this Jeremiah Curry? 'Bout his business dealings with Bloodstone say?"

Mike licked his lips and hesitated. Loyalty to his boss was ingrained in his psyche even one as odious as Bloodstone.

"Mr Bloodstone is Mr Curry's brother-in-law," Mike said, slowly.

The Kid and Cowdry swapped glances. This much they knew.

"Go on," the Kid urged, gently.

Mike sighed. What did he have to lose?

"Mr Bloodstone is a silent partner in Mr Curry's business. I … I believe he may have leant him money in the past. To ... keep the business afloat. I don't think it's doing very well."

The Kid smiled and sat back.

"Just as we thought," he said, to Cowdry. "Now Mike this is what I would like you to do for me. If ya willing." He paused as he chose his words carefully. He didn't want to put too much on Mike yet. "Do they know you at the Capitol offices, Mike?"

"Yes sir. Some offices I visit regularly."

"Would one of those offices have anything to do with mineral rights?"

"Yes sir. We're in constant liaison with The Office of the State Geologist. Have to be. Mineral and mining rights granted on land can influence the price demanded."

The Kid nodded. That's what he thought. He took a deep breath and asked.

"Bloodstone only sacked ya yesterday and today's Sunday so word won't have got around just yet. I want to know, Mike, if Pine Lake has anything like that attached to it. Can you find out for me tomorrow when the offices open?"

Mike licked his lips. "I suppose so," he said, slowly. "I don't want to get into trouble sir."

"You won't. You'll just be confirming something that I already suspect. What I then do with that information is up to me and ya won't be involved."

Mike nodded and licked his lips again, this time with a swallow.

"You said you'd make it worth my while."

The Kid grinned. "How much is ya rent say for the next two months?"

Mike's eyes widened and his mouth opened. "Um about a hundred dollars sir," he stammered.

The Kid nodded and sniffed. "Right. This information is worth two hundred dollars to me." He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his wallet. Two one hundred dollar bills were held out to Mike. "I'll give ya the money now and Cowdry here will go with ya tomorrow. Tell 'em you're showing him the ropes if they ask. Do we have a deal?"

Mike smiled. "Yes sir," he said and reached forward for the money.

Satisfied the Kid looked back and smiled smugly at Cowdry. He said nothing but just rolled his eyes.

The next day the Kid and Cowdry met Mike outside a café, opposite the Capitol building. As Mike and Cowdry crossed the street, the Kid went into the café and took up a seat in the window.

Mike and Cowdry passed security in the Capitol easily. The security guard knew Mike and he smiled and touched his hat. Word obviously hadn't spread about Mike's dismissal. They hoped it remained so for the next little while. Cowdry followed Mike up the wide marble and carpeted staircase and through the corridors of power until they reached a glass-panelled door. Stencilled on the glass was "The Office of the State Geologist" and underneath "Herbert B Higgins, Esq."

Outside they paused while Mike took a deep breath before going in. Inside a counter immediately confronted them. Wood and frosted glass room dividers allowed privacy for the visitors and the back office staff alike. However, all the dark wood and the small dimensions of the room made for a rather claustrophobic atmosphere.

Mike tinged the little bell on the counter and a few moments later the door behind the counter opened and a clerk stepped through.

"Mike! You're bright and early this morning."

"George yes got a lot on today. This is Paul Cowdry. He's new in my office and I'm showing him the ropes."

"Nice to see you, Mr Cowdry. So Mike what can I do for you?"

"Mr Bloodstone has had an enquiry about a piece of land on the current release schedule. However, the mineral survey for that piece of land appears to be missing from our files. I'm sure it will turn up eventually. They usually do. Unfortunately, the prospective purchaser is only in Cheyenne for a few more days and I would rather not wait for fate to take a hand. Would it be possible to see the survey in question?"

"Yes of course. I'll get the map and you can show me which piece of land it is. Laramie County is it?"

Receiving a yes, George disappeared. Mike and Cowdry exchange looks. So far so good.

George was soon back, carrying a large board, with a detailed map pinned onto it. He laid it flat on the counter and Mike and Cowdry leaned in to study it. A grid overlaid the map. In each square was a reference number.

"What scale is this map?" Cowdry asked.

"A mile to one square."

Cowdry nodded. That was detailed.

Cowdry pointed out Pine Lake and Mike read off the reference squares.

"B5 through B13, same for C, D, E and F, please." George made a note, nodded and disappeared again. As soon as the door closed, Cowdry took out a note pad and began to draw a quick sketch of Pine Lake itself and the geographical features surrounding it enclosed in the map references.

Mike watched him suspiciously. Now that he had all his senses back, he realised this was no ordinary land purchase. There was definitely mischief afoot. What he couldn't work out quite yet was where the mischief was coming from. Cowdry showed him his sketch, offering it up to the original. Mike nodded. That was a good approximation of the real thing.

Just in time, Cowdry slipped the pad and pencil back into his pocket as George came back. This time he thumped a large, thick red leather covered volume down on the counter.

"Now let's see. B5 you said." George licked his forefinger and began flicking through the large pages. "Here we are. B5 nothing of note. B6, B7, B8, B9 all nothing. B10 … ah." Mike and Cowdry watched George read the tome. "Hmm. Same goes for B11 through B13. Hmm."

The suspense was killing them.

"Anything?" Cowdry prompted, cracking first and received an irritated frown from Mike.

"Oh yes, there's something," George said, enigmatically. He flipped the page over to the section marked C. "Nothing in C5 through C9 but C10 through C13 is the same as B10 through B13." He flipped to the next page "Same in D. "Must be a large deposit to stretch that far." More page flipping. "Nothing in E or F."

"A large deposit of what, George?" Mike asked jumping in before Cowdry could.

"Oh I'll have to go look it up. Typical scientific report this. Not written in any language you or I can understand. It's a deposit of something but nothing I'm familiar with. I'll go and get the crib sheet."

As George disappeared yet again, Cowdry spun the volume round so he could read for himself.

"You're not supposed to look in there!" Mike hissed. "It's Government property. Eyes only!"

"That's alright, I'm only using my eyes," Cowdry murmured as he studied the page. The encyclopaedia in Heyes' study had helpfully given the scientific notation for fibrous talc, which Cowdry had memorised. He beamed. Here it was again.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Cowdry with Mike's help, spun the book back. Both were leaning nonchalantly on the counter. George paused and gave them both a look. The father of seven children he was well aware of an innocent look or two. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, he flipped open the crib sheet, which was more of a crib booklet and laid it onto the large volume.

After a few moments, he was able to confirm what Cowdry had suspected.

"This deposit gentlemen is of something called fibrous talc. Ground down into a fine powder, it is used in the paint trade and is a constituent part in the manufacture of wall plaster. However, it's primary use is in the paper making process."

"How big a deposit is it?" Cowdry asked.

"Oh pretty big. See these hills here in B10 to D13? Most of the way across all of these squares."

"Is it valuable?" Mike asked, before Cowdry and received a look.

"Could be. It's rare in these parts."

"But is it valuable enough that the Government might decline to sell that piece of land?" Cowdry asked, beating Mike this time.

George frowned. "Hmm, well I'll have to check the reserve list. Back in a moment."

Cowdry shuddered as George went off yet again. Why could bureaucrats only concentrate on one question at a time? He sighed.

"Is it always like this?"

"Pretty much," Mike nodded in confirmation. "But we're lucky we got George. Arthur is far worse."

Cowdry rolled his eyes. How could anyone be worse?

This time when George came back he was carrying a clipboard. He proceeded to cast his eye glacier like down the list. "Nope not on the reserve list," he said, finally. "Might be on the "to be negotiated" list though."

Cowdry gritted his teeth, anticipating another disappearance. To his relief, George simply turned the sheet up and looked at the one below. "Ah yes here it is. Fibrous talc. Land holding significant deposits of fibrous talc can only be sold if a licence for its extraction is obtained at the time of purchase. The buyer should be made fully aware that by the granting of the licence they undertake to sell the mined ore at a competitive price."

George looked up to see Cowdry biting his thumbnail.

"Is it possible to have that written out please?" he asked.

"For our records and use in negotiations with our potential purchaser," Mike quickly followed up.

George considered. "Don't see why not. I'll arrange for one of the typewriter girls to do it. I'll telephone your office in about an hour, Mike. You can send someone to pick it up."

Mike looked horrified. "Er no …"

"Er what Mike means is don't trouble yourself telephoning George. I'll come back in an hour," Cowdry smiled, patting Mike enthusiastically on the arm and subtly nudging him towards the door.

"Well if you're sure … . It might not be ready in quite an hour. Might be a bit longer."

"Then I'll wait." Then remembering that Mike was supposed to be his boss. "You don't mind if I wait do you Mike?"

Mike started. "What? Oh no. No that'll be alright."

Cowdry grinned. "See you in about an hour George. Thanks for your help," he said, bundling Mike out of the door.

Once it closed, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think I need a drink," groaned Mike.

"The café then," Cowdry grinned, catching Mike's arm and steering him away from the door.

The Kid was just about to order some more coffee when Mike and Cowdry entered the café.

Mike and Cowdry pulled out chairs and sat opposite the Kid. He folded the newspaper and set it to one side as they settled.

"Well, how did ya get on?"

"Very good sir. As we suspected there is a significant deposit of fibrous talc at Pine Lake. In the hills. The clerk we saw is having a report typed up "for our records". I'll go back in an hour to collect it."

"You knew about the fibrous talc?" Mike asked in surprise. Today was the first time he had even heard of fibrous talc and now everyone seemed to know about it.

"We suspected Mike," the Kid said.

"Is it valuable?"

"Um to the right people it could be."

"Pine Lake isn't on the reserve list sir but it is on the … what did George call it?" Cowdry frowned at Mike.

"It's on the "to be negotiated list"," Mike said, helpfully.

"And that is?" the Kid stretched his neck in Mike's direction.

"Oh! Um in this case a licence to extract has to be obtained at the time of purchase and the buyer should undertake to sell the mined ore at a competitive price," Mike quoted.

"Hmm." The Kid scratched his chin. "Not entirely sure I want a mining operation going on close to where I'll be living. I'll have to see where the hills are situated."

"I drew a map sir." Cowdry brought out the sketch map he'd made. "It's not to scale, sir," he said deadpan. "But it'll give you a fair idea."

The Kid gave him the look before looking at the sketch. The hills in question were some miles from the lake and the area where he wanted to build the house. "Hmm, well I guess that might not be so bad. After all we won't be there all year." He nodded, pursing his lips. "Might be able to come to some accommodation." He looked up.

"Ah!"

A waitress had arrived to take their order. The Kid slipped the map into his pocket.

"A refill for me please. Mike, coffee?"

"Yes sir."

"Paul?"

"A pot of tea please," smiled Cowdry, at the waitress, who bobbed away. "Oh, miss?" She bobbed back. "Is it Indian?"

"No it most certainly is not!" For some reason she sounded outraged. "It's American!" she huffed and stomped off, muttering about savages.

"Er …!"

Cowdry turned back realising he'd made some hideous mistake without knowing it. Then realisation dawned on him.

"Oh! She thought I meant indian Indians."

"Yeah Cowdry she did," the Kid amused.

"But I didn't! I meant tea from India!"

"Yeah I know what ya meant but SHE didn't."

"Oh dear," Cowdry sighed. "Do Indians drink tea, sir? Your Indians I mean."

The Kid chuckled. "Not out of bone china cups, no." He laughed at the thought.

The three made small talk until their refreshments arrived. The Kid was reluctant to discuss his plans in too much detail with Mike present.

The waitress returned looking red-faced. She had obviously had a telling-off about her behaviour and had it explained to her where the tea served came from. She set the tray down and stood back, hands clasped in front of her.

"I'm sorry for my outburst earlier. I'm quite new at this and not fully aware of the origins of all our products just yet. Your drinks are on the house."

Cowdry gave her a smile. It wasn't quite as devastating as the Heyes full double dimple but not far short. It made her redden even more.

"That's quite alright … Rose." He spotted the small oval name badge pinned to the top of her apron. "The apologies are all mine."

"Thank you sir." She bobbed and retreated hurriedly.

Cowdry watched her go and the Kid watched him, watch her go.

"Yes and yes," he said when Cowdry turned back.

"Sir?"

"I'm answering ya next two questions, Paul. Yes we are gonna stay another night in Cheyenne and yes ya can have the evening off." The Kid was fighting hard to stop his amusement bursting out too much.

"Oh." Cowdry reddened. "Thank you sir."

Left to his own devices for the evening, the Kid had dinner brought to his suite and sat on his bed poring over several books he had brought with him from Heyes' study. One detailed the paper making processes from rag production through to the latest methods employed using wood pulp. To his delight, there was a whole chapter on the use of fibrous talc and reference to a large operation in New York State at Gouverneur. He made a mental note to go visit when he was back that way.

As he turned the page his eyes widened when he read the size of the deposit Gouverneur currently mined – seven to nine miles long and four to five miles wide. If the Pine Lake deposit was anywhere near as big then there was a fortune under the ground. No wonder Jeremiah Curry and Nathan Bloodstone were desperate to get their hands on it.

The Kid picked up the report from the Office of the State Geologist here in Cheyenne and the quick sketch Cowdry had made. Cowdry had told him the scale of the original so it gave him some idea what he was looking at. Four miles long by about three miles wide. Not bad.

He returned to the chapter on the Gouverneur Talc and read on. He had to read it again, twice more, did some quick calculations in his head before sitting back in amazement.

"Wow!"

The Gouverneur mine was extracting on average just under twenty-four thousand tons a year and the going rate for talc was about ten dollars a ton. That made the previous year's gross profits in the region of two hundred and forty thousand dollars.

Before he could marvel any more he heard the key in the lock. Cowdry was back from his evening off.

"Is that you Paul?" the Kid called, knowing it was.

"Yes sir."

"I'm in the bedroom."

A few moments later, Cowdry appeared at the door.

"Well how was it?" the Kid asked, looking up.

"How was what sir?" Cowdry replied innocently.

"You don't HAVE to tell me I suppose," the Kid, gave a huge exaggerated sigh.

"It was a very pleasant evening, sir."

The Kid smiled. "Good. That's all I wanted to know."


	12. Chapter 12

Settling Wheat – Part Twelve (Plans are Made)

Returning from Cheyenne with a lot to think about, the Kid went to see Heyes. There he sat, propped up in bed, wearing the new snowy white nightshirt that Mary had bought him. He was still far from well but he was eating a little, sleeping a lot and very bored. Reading made him sleepy so he had largely given up on that. He was happy to chat to anyone who dropped by to see how he was.

"Sounds to me like an old fashioned ruse might work, Kid," Heyes said, after the Kid had told him the whole story again. This time he was lucid and could offer his advice.

The Kid stopped pacing up and down at the end of Heyes' bed and turned on his heel to look at his partner.

"Heyes," he growled. "We don't do that anymore. Remember?" he scolded.

Heyes had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Kid. Force of habit," he murmured in apology. He had enjoyed the Kid's telling of the story and his mind was beginning to buzz with a plan. That was the only way he could help he could provide just now.

"Heyes you know 'bout fibrous talc don't ya?"

Heyes nodded. "A little." He beamed. "Well more'n a little. Sam Flixton told me all about how it's used in paper making."

"So y'know Sam Flixton?"

"Yeah. He er needed a part for one of his machines a while back. Hardware Store in Hardy City couldn't get it for him, recommended he came to me." Heyes grinned. "I'm getting a reputation for being able to source hard to find things. You'd be surprised what I'm asked for." He cleared his throat. "So Sam came to me and I got it for him. Went out to deliver it myself, and he showed me round the mill. Outside he had a small pile of what looked like rocks. Wood chips I understood and he had THAT in quantities but not rocks. So I asked him. He explained all about fibrous talc. He grinds it up into powder and when it's mixed with water as part of the process, it's magic stuff."

The Kid nodded and returned to pacing. Heyes followed him with his eyes as if watching the ball at a tennis match.

"I want Pine Lake, Heyes," he said after a while and came to a stop. Which Heyes was grateful for as he was beginning to feel dizzy. It didn't occur to him that might be how the Kid felt when HE did it. "It's just what I'm looking for."

The Kid was off pacing again, although slower now.

"Have you seen Grassy Flatts?"

"No."

"Why not?" Heyes could guess the answer and he wasn't wrong.

"I want Pine Lake."

Heyes nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line. It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with a stubborn Kid Curry. Supposing he'd lost the knack? His eyes widened at the thought. So he watched his cousin some more. He really should stop calling him Kid. Jedidiah Thaddeus Jones was a different man these days. Married. A successful businessman. A good golfer, with a handicap of two. And not a gun in sight. Well at least not a Colt. The Kid had mentioned game shooting a time or two. No definitely not the man he used to be.

Heyes sighed and looked away to nothing in particular. He just let his mind wander. Then a thought struck him and he frowned.

"Where does Jeremiah Curry live, er Jed?"

The Kid looked at him in surprise. Heyes hadn't called him Jed since they were boys. Heyes scrunched up his nose as he was about to confess.

"I oughta stop calling you Kid, Jed. I'll try but I can't promise."

The Kid nodded with a smile. "Awh, Heyes, I don't mind. Ya've called me that for so long now." He took a deep breath. "His mill is over at Longwater so he lives there I guess," he shrugged. "Why d'ya ask?"

Heyes leant his head back on the top of the pile of pillows behind him. "Well I was just thinking he probably knows about the Bulmer brothers being arrested by now. I'm guessing he and Bloodstone are gonna be pretty anxious wondering what they've said." The tip of his tongue touched his top lip. "Bloodstone's bound to have told Jeremiah about you and your interest in Pine Lake. You've upped the ante Kid. For all they know you coulda made a complaint to the Attorney General about the way Bloodstone treated you in his office. The pressure'll be piling up so they'll be looking to get their plan done sooner rather than later before it all turns to dust."

"Go on." The Kid sat down, interested.

"So Jeremiah Curry is gonna be very anxious to get Sam's mill. So far, apart from the few vague threats he made to Sam he hasn't ACTUALY done anything. But I reckon now he'll step up the intimidation on Sam. Make good on his threats against him in the hope that he'll come round. He needs that mill real bad."

The Kid nodded slowly. "Then we need to warn Sam."

"Yes, I'll come to Sam in a moment." Heyes licked his lips.

"Y'see I reckon Bloodstone will be lending Jeremiah the money to buy Sam's mill. See Bloodstone couldn't come right out and lend Jeremiah the money to buy Pine Lake 'cos that would be perceived as corruption. Bloodstone's smarter than that. He knows he can't be personally involved in the purchase of a piece of land sold by his office. On the other hand, Jeremiah can. Question?"

Heyes noticed the Kid's finger raised.

"Yeah won't Bloodstone have to declare a family tie?"

Heyes nodded. "Yeah possibly but he's going through the correct procedure. He's releasing Pine Lake on the usual release schedule. He's writing to the interested party in the same way and at the same time as all the other enquirers. The one thing that has spoilt it for him is the mix up over the letters. He hadn't banked on you and it sounds like it was a complete surprise to him when you turned up in his office wanting to buy Pine Lake."

The Kid grinned. "Yeah, Cowdry and me got that impression as well."

"So Jeremiah purchasing Sam's mill does two things, Kid, er Jed. It provides collateral so Jeremiah CAN buy Pine Lake AND gives him the means to keep his business afloat. By all accounts, Sam has hit on a novel way of using fibrous talc that distances his product from those of his competitors. So if Jeremiah can get his hands on that formula … why he's made for life isn't he? He's got an operation that has competitive advantage and a source of raw material which is hard to come by in these parts."

Another finger raised.

"The owner of Pine Lake has to sell the ore at a competitive price so … ."

Heyes shook his head furiously. "Yes and he will but there's other costs he can charge on top. Delivery, finishing costs, quantity differentials. Kid, believe me the list is infinite. He'll have a monopoly in these parts and he can set his own prices. He stands to make a fortune and I bet Bloodstone is in on a hefty cut."

Heyes licked his lips.

"But it all hinges on Jeremiah finding somebody suitably intimidating. So I reckon he'll be on the lookout for some form of replacement for the Bulmer brothers, right about now." Smug grin. "So perhaps if Jeremiah Curry, accidently on purpose, meets someone who looks like he might be good at doing the intimidating, then wouldn't events reach their natural conclusion?"

The Kid nodded again. "So … what are you saying? That I should go ahead and sign on with Jeremiah as Kid Curry?" The Kid was incredulous.

"No! No! That'll never work!" Heyes shook his head with a frown and cleared his throat.

"Heyes I know I'm not a fast gun no more but … ."

"Don't get proddy, Kid. Would you pass me the water?" he said, hoarsely. "I meant … Wheat." He held his hand out for the glass.

"Wheat?" the Kid frowned, passing it over.

Heyes took a gulp and nearly spluttered. "Yeah. Look despite what you think, Wheat does have some brains. I wouldn't be taking him on as manager of my Salt River branch if I didn't think he could handle it." He took a sip of water and swallowed it quickly. "He can. He just don't know it yet." He shook his head in frustration at getting side tracked. Talking was still painful and he wanted to get this said before his voice gave up altogether. "He can do this Kid. The one thing I've always admired about Wheat … ."

"Admired 'bout him! You?" The Kid was astonished. He shook his head. "Sheesh! I reckon ya still delirious!"

"Hush up and let me finish." He paused to take another gulp of water. "The one thing I've always admired 'bout Wheat is he can follow orders. I know! I know! He moans and groans and fights all the way but think about it Kid. When did Wheat ever really let us down?"

Heyes paused to watch the Kid take that in. There were a lot of memories to trawl through so it was a few moments before the Kid shook his head. "I can't think of any one time," he said, finally. "Not where he REALLY let us down."

"Exactly. I can only think of a few little things but they're nothing serious. We're all he's got now Kid and he's gonna hang on tight 'cos there's nothing else for him. And he knows it." Heyes swallowed. "So he's gonna follow instructions and he's gonna try his dammdest to do it right."

Heyes left the Kid to contemplate that as he tried to clear his throat. He carried on, painfully hoarse. "Let's see if Wheat can gain Jeremiah Curry's trust. We've nothing to lose and everything to gain. Jeremiah doesn't know him from Adam and Wheat can try out his new alias, Walter Brown. Jeremiah will have no reason to suspect that Wheat's anything to do with you."

The Kid was frowning. "Trust Wheat?" His scratched his cheek. "There's a novelty," he murmured.

Heyes smiled. "I know. It took me a while to come to terms with the concept." He drained the glass of water and held it out for a refill. The Kid obliged. "And besides … ," Heyes' smile turned into a smug grin. "Jeremiah Curry needs a safe breaker. He can't wait to see if other methods prevail. If he has Sam's formula, then from what you tell me, that's a powerful piece of blackmail. And he needs something real persuasive to make Sam sell." He pursed his lips. "Wheat could perhaps drop a hint that he knows me."

"Awh, Heyes, you ain't up to it!" the Kid cried.

"No I know that but your man might pull it off."

"Cowdry? NO! I've asked him to do a lot of things that aren't in his job description but breaking into a safe will NOT be one of 'em!"

"He doesn't have to. He just has to convince Jeremiah Curry that he's me. If it comes up. He was mistaken for me before remember? And the er …." He sniffed. "likeness is apparent." He shrugged. "'Course I'm better looking. Mary says so," he breathed, tongue in cheek.

"I dunno Heyes," the Kid frowned. Things were getting serious. On the one hand, he wasn't sure how far he wanted to take this. On the other, he knew he was in too deep to leave it alone.

"Sam Flixton will have to be in on all of this."

The Kid shook his head doubtfully. "I dunno Heyes. He was very reluctant to tell us about the threats Jeremiah made in the first place."

Heyes nodded. "I can understand that. He's a cautious man and just wants to go about his business. But that's not your problem. The law will have to ask for his co-operation. We're asking him to be bait to reel in a big fish here. I've got the feeling that this deal with Jeremiah is the tip of the iceberg where Bloodstone's involved. Scratch a little deeper and I bet there's all manner of shady deals he's had dealings with in the past."

The Kid pursed his lips. "I figured something similar Heyes. While I was in Cheyenne I looked up Lineaus and Anne." He referred to a couple they'd known back in the day.

"Godfrey?" Heyes widened his eyes. "They still about?"

"Yeah, not in the business no more. Respectable store owners these days. Got a couple of kids. But they still have their contacts and as a favour to an old friend, they agreed to find out about Bloodstone for me. Didn't take 'em long, Heyes. Came back to me the very next day."

"And?"

The Kid grinned. "Ya right. Bloodstone used to be the local agent for the Department of Land Management up in Helena. Heard there was some trouble with a land deal up there. Nothing was ever proved so he just moved offices. Lineaus reckons the Government are watching him though."

"Then you need to talk to Lom, Kid. This is way too big for us to handle on our own. He'll know what to do but in the meantime back to my plan. We need Sam's formula."

"He's not gonna willingly give us his formula! It's how he stays in business!"

Heyes shook his head. It was getting more difficult for him to talk. "He doesn't have to but he does need to write a formula good enough to fool Jeremiah Curry. You said Jeremiah doesn't know the first thing about making paper with wood pulp. If he's got any sense and can READ, he can find that out. But what he really needs is Sam's formula to make any money. So if he knows, or thinks he knows, that the formula came from Sam's safe then he's gonna accept it isn't he?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"So Sam has to report a robbery."

The Kid thought about what Heyes had said.

"How does that help us?" He thought he knew the answer but just to be sure, he wanted Heyes to spell it out.

"Because then … ." Heyes had to gulp several swallows of water before he could continue. "Then Sam can tell Lom and Sheriff Wilcox over at Hardy City about the threats Jeremiah Curry made to him. They can investigate officially and it'll all come out." Heyes was more animated now as he struggled to finish before his voice went altogether. "The land deal. The fibrous talc. Bloodstone's involvement. Everything."

The Kid smiled slowly. "Heyes, ya're a genius."

Heyes grinned. "Was there ever any doubt?" he asked, modestly then ignored the look the Kid gave him. "Talk to Lom first before you do anything."

"Me?"

Heyes tried to speak but nothing came out but a gah! He shook his head, pointed at his throat and shrugged. Then he held up a finger and wrote something awkwardly with his left hand on a notebook he conveniently had by the side of his bed. He was working on his next novel. About the only thing he could do was jot down ideas as they came to him. He only hoped he could read his scrawl when the time came to write it in earnest.

Turning the notepad round, he held it up for the Kid to read. The Kid frowned and snatched it from him. He looked at it closely and then looked up at Heyes in disbelief.

"When are you gonna go to Salt River and look at my new store?! Hell, Heyes I ain't had time!" Heyes raised an eyebrow and shrugged. After all that's one of the reasons the Kid had SAID he had come out here. The Kid growled. He knew it too. "Alright, I'll speak to Lom and then I'll go over."

Heyes snatched the notepad back and scribbled something else.

"Go by … what's that's supposed to be? A train?"

Heyes nodded and smiled. He mimed riding, shook his head and pointed to his leg and arm. Then shook his head again."

The Kid understood. "Okay, Heyes I'll go by train."

Heyes looked pleased.

The Kid stood at the counter in the newspaper office, waiting for Craig to come out from the back.

"Hey, Thaddeus, can I help you?"

"Yeah. Jeremiah Curry. What does he look like?"

"Hmmm." Craig frowned in thought. "Well he's a big man. Taller than you. Late middle age, going grey. Has big mutton chops and a goatee. Why?"

The Kid shrugged. "Jus' wondered what he looks like. 'Case I run into him."

Craig pursed his lips. "One moment, I think I can do better than that. Take a seat. Might take me a while to find something which might help."

The Kid frowned as he took a seat. He watched curiously, as Craig began opening drawers, rummaging around inside before closing them. After ten minutes, he found what he was looking for.

"Ah! Here we are."

The Kid joined him back at the counter. Craig was sifting through a small pile of photographs. One he turned round to show the Kid.

"Jeremiah Curry was a co-sponsor of a charity horserace a few years ago. The Bugle took a photograph of all the sponsors with the winner. This is the original photograph."

The Kid looked at the picture of three men in suits, a jockey and the horse with a rosette in it's bridle. "That's Jeremiah Curry, second from right."

The man was how Craig had described but this was more useful.

"Mind if I borrow this?"

Craig hesitated. He didn't usually lend out his original material but knowing "Deputy Jones" was investigating an important matter, he nodded.

"I'll need it back though."

"Yeah sure," the Kid smiled and touched the brim of his hat. "Thanks Craig."

The Kid left the newspaper office and strode over to the jail. He was taking Heyes' advice about talking to Lom before he did anything further.

Lom sat back in his chair, fingers laced over his stomach as he listened impassively to everything the Kid had found out in Cheyenne. The Kid also went onto outline what Heyes had planned.

"Ya talking about setting him up, Kid. Not sure that's legal," he said, doubtfully when the Kid had finished.

The Kid winced, and then shrugged. "Well is it legal if a lawman, investigating a matter has to go undercover to prove it?"

"Ye-ah," said Lom, suspiciously. He thought about it a bit more and sniffed. "I suppose I could deputise whoever goes undercover. That'll be alright I guess. Who have ya got in mind? You?"

"Nope." The Kid hesitated. He knew Lom wouldn't like this. "Wheat."

"WHEAT!" Lom put his head in his hands. "Sheesh!"

"Heyes figures Wheat has jus' about the right amount of intimidating looks that Jeremiah Curry would believe. Wheat can look real mean when he has a mind to."

"I know! He scared the s**t outta my deputy the other week!"

The Kid grinned. "Bart?"

"Yeah."

The Kid frowned. "Say what is it with him? Every time I see him, he looks like he's about to wet himself."

Lom licked his lips and looked embarrassed. "Yeah, well he may be a bit slow sometimes but he's a good kid. He er … well he figured out who ya are."

The Kid shot forward in his chair. "Y'mean he knows I'm Kid Curry!"

"Yeah and that Joshua is really Hannibal Heyes."

"Hell, Lom that's …. a big deal for Heyes living here."

"Yeah I know so I've sworn Bart to secrecy." Lom shook his head. "He's too scared of me to let slip." He hesitated. "I think," he added to himself.

The Kid sat back in his chair. "You'll have to tell Heyes."

Lom nodded. "I will. When he's up and about again."

The Kid nodded. "So, what d'ya think of Heyes' plan. Good huh?"

Despite himself, Lom smiled slowly. "It's a Hannibal Heyes plan alright and it just might work. Supposin' Jeremiah Curry wants to meet Heyes? Doubt if Mary will let ya march him up to the bedroom."

"No. Cowdry can stand in for Heyes if that happens. You saw him. Don't he look like Heyes?"

Lom widened his eyes. "Yeah, frighteningly so."

Lom thought some more. "Leave it with me, Kid. I'll need to talk to Wilcox over at Hardy City and Gunnison at Longwater. This is becoming a countywide operation. As the Government already has eyes on Bloodstone, I'll need to bring a federal marshal in on this. Don't wanna jeopardise anything they may already got going."

The Kid nodded and got up.

Something woke Heyes from an afternoon snooze. He wasn't sure what it was until he heard the bedroom door shut. He opened his eyes and looked round, expecting to see someone. Instead, he saw a hideous piece of furniture. A wooden straight-backed armchair, with a deep base. He knew immediately what it was and groaned. Reacting in anger, he struggled into a sitting position.

"MARY!"

It was four days since he had come round properly and today had been the first day he really felt he was getting well. He was no longer coughing. No longer felt like death warmed up. He was eating more and sleeping less. The pain in his arm, leg and chest had receded to a dull ache. He was even more grateful that no more laudanum was required. Before he had settled down for a snooze, he had talked with Mary about getting up soon.

The Kid reported back that the Salt River store was fitted out and all ready to stock up. Heyes already had the initial stock on hold but he wanted to know the store was ready before he confirmed delivery. He was anxious for the store to open up. Paying rent on an empty property was costing him money.

"MARY!"

Outside on the landing, Mary had stopped and now stood with her eyes closed, calming herself. This was going to be a difficult conversation. John Beecher and Wheat, who had carried the chair into the bedroom, continued on their way downstairs.

Wheat chortled. "He's awake," he said, stating the obvious. "Come'n John lets see about some coffee." He hurriedly pushed John in front of him and out the front door.

"MARY!"

Mary steeled herself, turned and went into the bedroom.

"You bellowed, GB?"

"Yeah! What the hell is THAT?!" An indignant finger pointed at the chair.

Mary smiled and rested her hand on the back. "I borrowed this from Mrs Tatchbrook. You know, the Town Clerk's mother? It's a commode."

"I'm well aware of what it is! What is it doing in MY bedroom?" He was so incensed he was almost on the edge of bed.

"When Ben came yesterday he said, that if you are well enough today when he comes, we might see if we can get you up to sit in a chair for a little while. I thought if you can do that, then you could use this for … you know … your business."

Heyes stared at her with his outlaw leader's face on. "Mary, if I'm getting outta this bed, then I'm walking along the landing to the bathroom," he growled, ominously low. "I'm fed up with having an audience every time I wanna … ." His tongue explored his mouth. "Take it away!"

"I can't. This is a very solid piece of furniture. It's too heavy."

"Then … get … whoever … brought … it … in … here … to … move … it!"

"They've gone."

"Get … 'em … back!"

Mary took a deep breath and was about to go do that, when the door opened behind her. In came Dr Ben Albright with a cheery smile.

"Ah! I thought I heard yelling so I knew you were awake Joshua," he said, cheerfully, shutting the door behind him.

Heyes licked his lips, unable to think of anything to say to that. At least not with Mary present. Sensing an ally in Ben, she folded her arms and waited. Heyes chewed on wanting to say something for a few moments, and then growled loudly in defeat. Putting his hand to his head, he fell back amongst the pillows and closed his eyes.

Ben and Mary swapped smiles, as Ben put his doctor's bag down and opened it. He pulled out a stethoscope, hesitated and then put it back. Probably not a good idea to begin with listening to Heyes' heart.

"How are you feeling, Joshua?" he asked, gently.

"Fine," Heyes breathed out deeply, calming himself down. He took his hand away and sighed. "I feel good doc. Like to try getting up if you think it's a good idea," he said, contritely.

"I do. I think it's a very good idea. You sound much better and you look much better. But before we talk about you getting up, I'd like to examine your injuries. I haven't looked at them properly while you were ill."

"Ye-ah, okay." Heyes looked at him. No doubt this would hurt. "Now?"

Ben smiled. "No time like the present." He turned to Mary. "Would you fetch me a bowl of warm water and a towel, please?"

Mary nodded and went off to do that.

"Now that we're alone, what's got you so upset?"

"That thing!" Heyes gave the commode a death stare. "You know what it is right?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, it was me who asked Mrs Tatchbrook if you might borrow it for a spell."

"Oh great doc! Now the whole damm town knows I can't … .!" Heyes closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry doc. I feel like an invalid."

"That's because you are."

"It's not a feeling I'm used to," Heyes muttered.

Ben looked sympathetic. "Joshua I can't allow you to take things too fast. I told you from the beginning that this wouldn't be a quick recovery."

"Yeah you did but it doesn't mean I have to like it though does it?" Heyes said petulantly. He was determined to have the last word.

Ben smiled. "No it doesn't. And we can use that determination to our advantage but in a CONTROLLED way."

Heyes frowned. "How d'you mean Doc?"

"Well I've been thinking about your arm. Having it in a splint like that isn't very practical. Not if you want to get up and start moving about. One little knock and you could damage your arm. You'd have to start all over again and even make its healing worse. Especially as you only have one good foot at the moment and will need crutches to get around anyway. The potential to fall is high."

"So what are you saying?"

"The hospitals back East are using plaster casts to immobilise broken limbs these days. The advantage is the bone is less susceptible to movement. The patient can be more mobile because there is less risk of injury."

"Sounds good." He scowled. "I can feel a but."

"No not really. Except whether it will be suitable for your particular set of circumstances. Let me assess your injuries, with putting your arm in a plaster cast, in mind. If I'm satisfied with both your arm and leg, then we can talk about letting you get up. Okay?"

Heyes nodded.

After a painful but thorough examination, Ben Alright was able to give his verdict. Mary sat on the edge of the bed and Heyes' hand found its way into hers. She looked at him in surprise and he gave her hand a squeeze.

"I'm happy that the swelling has gone down on your right knee and that you have flexibility without pain." Heyes had spent several long minutes with his leg in the air, bending and unbending. "A bit of stiffness is to be expected after a period of inactivity. I am also happy that your arm looks clean enough to plaster. If you still had any serious unhealed lacerations on it then I couldn't but those you do have are healing well. That's the good news." He paused. "What I'm not so happy about is your right foot. I suspected at the time that you have what is called a Lisfranc fracture."

"What's one of them?" Heyes asked.

"The Lisfranc is where several small bones form the arch on top of the foot. The severe bruising on the bottom of your foot tells me that you have injured all of them. It's named after a French surgeon during the Napoleonic Wars who was interested in this injury. It's a very common amongst cavalry soldiers when they fall from their horses but get their foot stuck in the stirrup. Exactly the type of accident that happened to you, Joshua."

Heyes nodded.

"But the treatment for this injury requires the foot to be non-weight bearing for a time."

"How long?"

Ben looked doubtful. "Well a minimum of six weeks, maybe longer."

"I can't stay in bed for six weeks!" Heyes groaned loudly. "Awh! Jus' shoot me now!"

Ben swapped glances with Mary. Neither had realised before that Heyes could be so melodramatic.

"You didn't let me finish," Ben said, patiently. "There is something I can do."

Heyes looked interested. "Anything so long as I can get outta this bed!"

"I can plaster your foot. You won't be able to put your full weight on it but you will be able to get around with the aid of crutches." Heyes just looked at him. "It's the best I can do, Joshua. The alternative is … ."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it! Six more weeks in bed!"

"At least."

Heyes rolled his eyes celling ward and sighed. "I don't really get a choice do I?"

Ben nodded. "I'll come back tomorrow and we'll do it. The plaster will take about 36 hours to dry completely so I can't let you up until then." He paused looking at the disgusted look on Heyes' face. "At least you'll know the end is in sight Joshua."

"Ye-ah. Thanks Ben, I do appreciate all you're doing for me."

Ben smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'll let myself out Mary."

Mary looked at Heyes after Ben had gone. "What do you think?"

"It's not exactly what I had in mind … ." He sighed. "There's no alternative is there?"

"Well you could stay in bed where I can keep an eye on you," she said with a knowing smile.

Heyes didn't deign to answer that. "I'm sorry about earlier. I know you're only trying to make things easier for me."

She patted his shoulder. "I know how frustrating this must be for a man like you who's used to always being on the go. Just make the most of it. Write your novel, spend more time with the children, spend more time with me." She ended by kissing him. He put his arm round her.

"Yeah you're right. I should do all of those things and maybe I'll enjoy them too. Er I mean I WILL enjoy them." He corrected quickly when he saw her face. "Why did you call me GB earlier?"

"Susan has nicknamed you, Grumpy Bear. You were living up to your name."

Heyes laughed. "Ha!"


	13. Chapter 13

Settling Wheat – Part Thirteen (Walter Brown)

"Well how do you feel?" Ben asked, wiping his hands.

He had spent the afternoon plastering Heyes' arm and his foot from the ankle down.

Heyes glared at his foot encased in its white boot. He felt like someone had mistaken him for a cake and iced him instead. He wasn't happy about it. He felt silly. Ben had set a rubber heel into the bottom of the plaster cast. Heyes wouldn't be able to put his foot down normally but he could use the heel to help him hobble around.

"My toes are cold," he said, petulantly.

Ben grinned. "It'll need a couple of more hours but by tonight the blankets can be tented over it."

"And it's heavy."

"The plaster will get lighter as it dries and as it dries the stronger it will get. Providing you don't get it wet it will keep its strength. Which is what we want. I'll come and see you in two days. It should be dry by then and we can perhaps get you up. Just be patient for a little while longer."

Heyes nodded. "Ye-ah. Thanks Ben. Send Mary up will you?"

Mary appeared a few minutes later. She went to kiss him but he stopped her.

"Careful! I'm still wet!"

She smiled. "My poor darling. Won't be long now." She touched his cheek fondly and then kissed him carefully. He held her close.

"Y'know when this is dry … will you come back to sleep in here? With me?"

"I don't think you're well enough yet, Josh."

"Awh! Just to sleep, Mary," he groaned, knowing what she meant and regretting that it probably wasn't possible. "I miss you beside me." He paused. "Snuggling."

Mary smiled. "I miss snuggling too." She nodded. "Well if you think I won't hurt you, I won't miss sleeping with Susan. She snores."

They laughed gently together. Heyes squeezed her hand and then kissed the fingers.

"Thank you for looking after me," he said, gently. "I know I'm not the easiest of patients. Sorry I've been so grumpy about it."

Mary patted his good arm. "That's what wives do Josh. But I have to tell you, my hat sales may never fully recover."

Heyes frowned. "I thought you had someone looking after the store?"

"I do but it's not quite the same. Hannah is keeping it ticking over but I know about my stock and can give advice. My customers value that. So I've decided. When you're up and can get around a little, I shall go to the store for some of the day, perhaps just the mornings to start with. Just at first and see how we get on."

"Oh, so you're gonna abandon me!" he said, indignantly.

"No," she said, firmly. "I'm just trying to get back to some semblance of normality. You're not the only one put out by this you know. Children like routine. The novelty has worn off now and they're unsettled."

"I'm sorry if I'm putting everyone out!" he said, sulkily. If he could cross his arms, he would. Instead, he rolled his eyes skyward and looked away.

"Now Josh don't go getting proddy."

"Proddy!" He looked at her in surprise. That wasn't a word he'd heard her use before. By the look on her face, she was as surprised as he was. She winced.

Heyes frowned hard and growled. "You've been spending too much time alone with Wheat and the Kid. Hmmm, on second thoughts perhaps the sooner you get back to selling hats the better. Spend any more time with those two and you'll be cussing like an ole forty-niner."

"Harry already is I'm afraid."

Heyes growled. "I told Wheat to watch his language."

"Oh I don't think he's got it from Wheat."

Heyes looked at her expecting something further. When she didn't continue, he inclined his neck in her direction. Mary smiled ruefully.

"Your language has been a little colourful of late." Heyes' tongue explored the roof of his mouth and he looked away. He sniffed. She might have a point, he thought, begrudgingly. "And loud." Mary wisely decided to leave it there and got off the bed quickly. "Would you like a sleep before supper? After all, it's not every day you get plastered. You must be worn out."

Heyes false smiled at her.

"Hey what's happening in here?" the Kid grinned as he walked into the bedroom the next morning, just before lunch.

Susan was sitting on the bed, next to her father. Scattered all round were books and notebooks.

"Hiya Kid." Heyes grinned in greeting. "We're doing homework! Aren't we Sue?"

"It's Susan, Pappy," the little girl sighed. How many times did she have to tell him? "Hi Uncle Thaddeus." She turned her face up for him to kiss, which he duly did.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Yeah we've done English. And Geography. And now we're doing Math!" Heyes was feeling happier today. Only one more day then Ben would be stopping by to check that the plaster on his arm and foot was completely dry. He was optimistic that he would then be able to get up and he sensed a change of surroundings coming on. Or, at least a different view of the same surroundings.

The Kid drew up a chair. "Mind if I talk to your Pappy, Susan? It's kinda important."

Susan looked up at Heyes, who nodded.

"We can finish this later. You need a break from writing anyway." Heyes kissed Susan on the head when she looked disappointed not to stay. Heyes and the Kid helped her gather her books.

Susan paused at the door.

"Uncle Thaddeus, you're not to tire Pappy out. He has to explain algebra to me by tonight."

"I'll try not to," the Kid laughed. "Promise."

With a nod of satisfaction, Susan closed the door.

"She's a bright kid, Heyes."

"Ye-ah. She's way ahead of her class. I'm not sure how long the little school in Porterville can continue to teach her." Heyes rolled his eyes. "Then what am I gonna do?"

"You'll think of something."

"Or she will," Heyes said, with a sigh of resignation. "What's up?"

"Been to see Lom. A federal marshal arrived this morning. Goes by the name of Helmut Gruber."

"Sounds German."

"Naw! Think he's from Nebraska." Heyes smiled fondly but let the Kid continue. "Anyway that's where I've been. Briefing him."

Heyes nodded. "I figured as much. Is he gonna be taking over?"

"Hmm, I think so. Oh, I dunno Heyes. Lom and me took him through what we know for sure and what we suspect. We left out the part about the mix up of the letters between me and Jeremiah. And … ." He rolled his eyes. "'bout me being Jedidiah Curry. We decided not to complicate matters. Then we told him your plan." The Kid shook his head. "I dunno. He didn't say much. I couldn't read him. Jus' sat writing it all down in a damm notepad."

Heyes shrugged. "Some folks are like that. Need to take it all in quietly. Not make any quick decisions." Heyes hesitated. "Is he … anyone we know?"

"Nah! He's young. Too young if ya ask me."

Heyes smiled. "Feeling your age Kid?"

The Kid rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "Yeah I guess. I dunno, Heyes. I came to help you and casually look over a piece of land while I was here. Now look where I am? Embroiled in the middle of a fraud!"

"Embroiled?" Heyes grinned.

"Yeah it means involved in."

Heyes just smiled but refrained from saying anything further.

"There's something I haven't told ya," the Kid said, hesitantly.

"Go on," Heyes gently urged. He could tell by the look on the Kid's face that it was serious.

"Well I got to thinkin' 'bout what ya said, 'bout Wheat havin' nothin' else in his life 'cept what we … you … can give him. Made me feel bad, Heyes. If it weren't for the amnesty that'd be you and me."

"We'da had each other. We're partners."

"Yeah," the Kid agreed and then qualified it. "Maybe if'n I didn't meet someone faster. And you didn't get us into a situation ya couldn't talk us outta." (Heyes chose not to pick him up on the use of the word "us".) Wheat don't have a partner no more. So I thought as Wheat is already … embroiled … in this little venture, perhaps he could be useful. Might prove his worth to the Governor."

"What have you done?" Heyes was suspicious.

The Kid looked reluctant to say and twitched all kinds of faces before he went for it.

"I haven't done anything exactly but it appears I accidently sent him up to Longwater," he said, quickly. He got up and raised his hands in surrender. "I know! I know! You and Lom told me not to do anything but I figured it couldn't hurt to have a man in place now. There was no tellin' how long this federal marshal would take to get here and start taking charge. I didn't expect him to arrive so soon, else I'da waited."

"Kid, you need to tell him," Heyes urged firmly.

"I know and I did. He weren't too pleased. Neither was Lom but I think Lom talked him round." The Kid rolled his eyes and paused. "Helped some when Lom got a telephone call … did you know sheriff's offices have telephones now? Sheesh! I reckon we got out at just the right time. They'd catch … ."

"Kid! Kid!" Heyes interrupted, burning with curiosity. "Who was the telephone call from?"

"Oh yeah right. Um, it was Sheriff Wilcox over at Hardy City. Sam Flixton is considering making a complaint about Jeremiah Curry." He paused. "Received a threat from him. Well he thinks it was from him. It was an anonymous letter but the threats were similar to the ones Jeremiah delivered in person in Sam's office afore. And Sam reckons the lock on the main gate was tampered with. Looks like someone tried to get in."

"Wheat?"

The Kid shook his head. "He only went this mornin'. This was last night."

Heyes sniffed. "This is the start of it then. Perhaps it is a good thing that Wheat's up there."

"Yeah that's what Lom and Marshal Gruber reckoned in the end. Lom deputised Wheat in-ab-sten-tia, whatever that means, so it's all official." He paused. "I'm going with Gruber when he goes to see Sam tomorrow. Try and persuade him to make the compliant and then we can go after Bloodstone properly." He shrugged. "Lom still has me as a deputy from last week. Ain't got round to rescinding it yet." He pulled a face. "Hey, d'ya think I'm getting paid?" he grinned, suddenly.

Heyes rolled his eyes.

Without waiting for an answer, the Kid sobered. "How d'ya think we should play it with Sam, Heyes? You know him better than we do."

Heyes took a deep breath. "That's a difficult one. I think he genuinely likes Jeremiah Curry despite being competitors. It's Bloodstone we're really after. Jeremiah's situation is providing the opportunity for Bloodstone that's all." He sighed. "I think you'll just have to tell Sam the truth and tell him the plan. Sam will either decide to help or he won't." He paused. "But he might just be mad enough now. He's very protective of his family and employees. He won't want the threats to get worse and anything to happen to them."

The Kid nodded. "Yes that's what I thought. He's gonna be difficult to talk round though Heyes. Shame you ain't up to it yet."

Heyes smiled. "Kid, how many years did we ride together? Something musta rubbed off on you. You'll be fine."

The Kid sighed. "Well Gruber might surprise me. Ya never know. He might have a tongue as silvery as yours."

Heyes laughed. "Thanks Kid. Say, how did you accidently send Wheat to Longwater?"

The Kid looked shamefaced. "We shared a bottle of your good whiskey last night." Heyes eyes widened. "Yeah the Scotch," the Kid admitted, shamefully.

Heyes let out a long breath but kept his counsel. He motioned for the Kid to carry on.

"We got to talkin' 'bout Kyle. Things got kinda maudlin and that's when it hit me 'bout what ya said. Afore I knew it, I was tellin' Wheat the plan and asking if he'd go. I guess I forgot to tell him that we had to wait to get the okay from Lom. I just went to bed. Didn't think no more of it. 'Till this mornin'. Found Wheat gone. Left me a note. So figured I had to go tell Lom. While I was there, Gruber turned up. So I had to tell it all again so he could write it in his little book."

Heyes nodded. "Well Kid," he sighed. "As Sherlock Holmes says, the game's afoot."

Wheat Carlson pushed through the batwing doors into the Lucky Star saloon, in Longwater. This was as good as place as any to begin his search for Jeremiah Curry. He walked up to the bar and the waiting bartender.

"Whiskey," he growled.

As he waited, he glanced round the saloon using the mirror behind the bar. Very few customers in. It was a quiet afternoon, being mid-week and a working town. He couldn't expect a lively atmosphere.

"Just passing through?" the bartender asked as he poured the whiskey.

"Mebbe," came the answer. Wheat took a sip and then grabbed the bartender as he started to walk away. "Leave the bottle." At the same time, he tossed a few coins onto the counter.

The bartender looked uneasy. He didn't know this man and that wasn't enough to pay for the whole bottle.

"For now," Wheat clarified, seeing the look the bartender gave him.

The bartender nodded and moved away.

Wheat settled down to sip his whiskey, playing with the cap of the bottle. The Kid had told him to play it cool, not to attract attention, not to start any fights, and above all not to drink too much and get thrown in jail. Just don't do anything stupid. Wheat was resolved to try although he wasn't entirely sure what constituted stupid. The Kid had given him a role to play. One that in his opinion played to his strengths. Be intimidating.

Wheat continued to watch the bar behind him, looking for the man whose likeness matched the photograph the Kid had shown him. Shouldn't be too hard to spot. A big man with striking facial hair like that would stand out a mile. Nope, didn't appear to be anyone of that description in the bar right now.

Taking the bottle, much to the chagrin of the bartender, Wheat sat down at a table. Behind him sat a big red-faced man, nursing a small beer. He looked to have company, as there was another half-drunk beer on the table. Said company must have stepped out for a few minutes.

Wheat had been sitting there for a little while, enjoying the feeling of whiskey slipping down his throat when he widened his eyes as the object of his mission to Longwater appeared. Making a beeline straight for him, at the last moment, Jeremiah Curry walked passed to the table behind. Wheat breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to make himself disappear, Wheat hunkered down over his whiskey and opened his ears.

"What I don't understand is why the hell you didn't tell me you had the wrong letter when you got it?" the red-faced man said. He kept his voice down but it was obvious he was angry. Wheat had no way of knowing, as he hadn't seen him, that this was Nathan Bloodstone.

"You told me I'd get a letter and what it would contain. So when I got it, I filed it away and didn't bother reading it! That's why!" Jeremiah low growled back, equally as angry. Bloodstone was trying to lay the blame at his door.

"Well if ya had we wouldn't BE in this mess! There's no telling what that Jedidiah Curry will do. He didn't look the sort to take this lying down. He smelt of money and men like him have important friends. VERY important friends. We might have to call this whole thing off. I've taken too many risks as it is."

"We can't! Those Bulmers will have told the law who they were working for by now. Even if they haven't, neither one of 'em was smart enough to be working alone. The law will know they were working for someone so it's only a matter of time. I TOLD you they would be trouble."

"Even more reason to stop! Now they're in jail, there's no one to … ." If Wheat had eyes in the back of his head, he would have seen Bloodstone glance around, furtively. He lowered his voice still further. "… sabotage Flixton's mill."

"Well somethings gotta happen, Nathan. My business is running on shirt buttons as it is. You'll have to find someone else to do it."

"D'ya think those kinda men grow on trees, Jerry?" He thumped the table, causing their drinks to jump into the air.

Wheat widened his eyes. Hmmm, he thought. This was starting to sound interesting. Having surmised who the fella with Jeremiah Curry was, it sounded like they were still in the market for someone to help out. He'd keep listening. An opening to offer his skills might present itself.

"Nathan you'd better DO something. We need Flixton's mill. We'll both go under if we don't get it. You may be able to weather it but I'll lose everything. I've worked too damm hard to back out now."

"What do ya want me to do? Conjure some knucklehead out of thin air!"

Wheat cleared his throat, sniffed and leaned back in his chair, one arm casually draped over the back of the chair next to him.

Jeremiah glanced at him, decided he didn't like what he saw and leaned in closer to Bloodstone.

"What we need is someone who can break into Flixton's mill and smash up a few things. Just as a warning. Nothing major just a few small bits of machinery that are easily repaired."

"What we NEED is someone who can persuade Flixton to sign those papers of sale and quickly so we can wrap this thing up before Curry starts asking questions." Bloodstone paused and glanced around again. "It won't take much. Y'know what Flixton's like. He's a bleedin' heart. The way he pampers his workforce is almost a crime!"

Bloodstone downed the rest of his drink and then pushed up. "I've gotta go. I'll see what I can do. I haven't given up yet."

Bloodstone had a few ideas. There were the men who had worked for him before up in Helena. He had wanted to keep his distance from them for a while but given the situation, they were distinct possibilities. He'd send a discrete telegram that way. For now, there was no point in telling Jeremiah that he might have someone until he was sure they'd come.

Wheat kept his head down as Bloodstone walked by him and out of the saloon. Wheat cast a look out of the corner of his eye. Jeremiah remained behind him but he was preparing to leave as well. Wheat knew he probably wouldn't get a better opportunity. Decisively, he stood up. He swung round, drink in hand, sweeping up the bottle as he did so.

"I might be able to help ya out," Wheat said, sitting down without being asked. "Couldn't help overhearing that ya've got a little situation that ya needs help with."

Jeremiah drew back uneasily. He hadn't liked the look of this man from the back before. He liked him even less now he could see the front.

"I … don't know what you thought you heard, friend," he started, nervously.

"Ya have … shall we say … a little job wanting doing. Sounded like ya needed some persuasion doing?"

Jeremiah swallowed. He smiled weakly. "Nah! I'm afraid you misheard. My friend and me were talking about … a book we've both read that's all."

"Yeah?" Wheat made it obvious he didn't believe a word. "Good book is it? Sounds like a humdinger to me. What's it called? Mebbe somethin' I'd like to read."

Jeremiah's mind had gone blank. He hadn't expected this man to call him on it.

"You don't look like a man who enjoys reading," Jeremiah said slowly and then winced. Perhaps he should have rephrased that.

Wheat shifted in his seat. "Well now jus' shows you ya can't always judge a book by it's cover, don't it? I mean you don't look like the sorta man who needs a little job doing. A little job like I heard ya do. If I was an upright citizen … an' I ain't saying I'm not … I reckon the sheriff across the street yonder might be very interested in what I overheard."

Jeremiah licked his lips. He doubted Sheriff Gunnison would believe this man, a stranger in town, over him a large employer. Yet, once the seed was sown … could he take the risk? And this man did look like he could do what he wanted. HE was intimidated by him.

"I might … want someone visited for me. To give 'em something you can't get in a store." He shrugged casually. "That's all."

"Ah!" Wheat nodded. "Ya want a message taking?"

"Yes that's it."

"Okay I have me a whole me-an-U of services I can offer. How much hurtin' do ya want?"

"Hurting? No, no, I don't want anyone hurt." Jeremiah hesitated. He was wary. This man may be trying to set him. Yet he didn't look like a lawman. If anything, he was the sort of man the law might find very interesting. On reflection, perhaps he was the sort of man he wanted for his little job. Still questioning his wisdom at this point, Jeremiah leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I want someone persuaded to do something. Nothing too violent. Or disabling. Just a real firm message. If you understand me?"

On the outside, Wheat looked almost disappointed. On the inside, however, he was relieved. He was pretty sure that hurting someone would fall under the category of stupid.

"Yeah I understand ya," Wheat sighed. "Who and when?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "I need to know a bit more about your … qualifications first," he said, trying to be matter of fact as if this was a usual everyday conversation. He swallowed nervously and waited to see what the big imitating man would say. Or, with trepidation, do.

Wheat pursed his lips. First time he'd ever been asked for a résumé. For a moment, he was stumped and then it came to him. He slowly stripped off his gloves, watching Jeremiah closely. Setting the gloves aside, he cracked his knuckles loudly. Jeremiah winced and swallowed. He was left in no doubt that given the right provocation the large mallet like hands may be used on him.

Jeremiah nodded. "Those qualifications will do nicely, thank you."

Inwardly Wheat smiled. Curry had gone for it. Outwardly, he kept his hard persona up. "Now who is it I gotta see?"

"Sam Flixton. You can find him at Flixton's Paper Mill, Hardy City. There's some papers I want him to sign."

Wheat nodded. "Ya got 'em on ya?"

"No. I can meet you later and give them to you then."

"Okay, then we can discuss the recompense at the same time."

Jeremiah smiled weakly. "How much d'you charge?"

Wheat sniffed. "Dunno yet. Need to check out a few things first. Meet here at seven tonight. Place'll be more lively then. Less chance we'll be overheard. "

Jeremiah nodded. "What do I call ya?"

"Brown." Wheat hesitated. He didn't like the alias that had been thrust upon him but he conceded that at least it was a name that wasn't wanted. "Walter Brown," he added James Bond style. "An' who will I be workin' for?"

"Does it matter?"

"Naw! Guess not."

The two men nodded in understanding and Jeremiah stood up. "Later, Brown," he said, before leaving.

Wheat got up shortly afterwards and returned the half-empty whiskey bottle to the bar. He gave the bartender a look that said he wasn't paying anymore and went off in search of the telegraph office. He had a telegram to send.

Wheat obtained the rest of the whiskey bottle he'd started earlier by throwing a few more coins on the counter. The same bartender picked up the coins quickly as Wheat chortled.

"Think we're getting to know each other better now, barkeep."

The barkeeper looked a little bilious.

Wheat joined Jeremiah at the same table they had sat in previously.

"Ya got them papers?" he asked sitting down.

In answer, Jeremiah reaching into his inside pocket and brought out the documents.

"I don't want him hurt Brown. Just persuade him to sign these that's all."

Wheat pursed his lips. "That might be kinda difficult, Curry." He noticed Jeremiah's sharp look. "Yeah, I asked around. Weren't too difficult to find out who ya are. Hurtin' and persuadin' kinda go hand in hand if ya know what I mean. What's this fella like? Will he be difficult?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "He's no hero. He just wants a quiet life."

"Well now don't we all. Don't we all." Wheat sniffed. "Now 'bout my fee … it all depends on how much trouble I have so I reckon I'll trust ya until it's done. Then we'll discuss payment."

Jeremiah nodded and frowned. Not that he knew much about this type of thing but he thought it was unusual to say the least. At the same time, Wheat realised the same thing. He was supposed to be a man for hire after all but knew he couldn't backtrack.

"'Course if ya were thinking of welchin' on the deal, I wouldn't," Wheat said, casually. "After all I'll have the papers an' I'll be keepin' 'em safe 'till I's gets paid." He twitched his nose. "Wouldn't want 'em fallin' into the wrong hands would we?"

"No. I understand. You'll get ya money."

Wheat nodded and took a sip of his whiskey. "Sounds like we might have the basis for a good working relationship here, Curry."

Jeremiah smiled weakly. What would Bloodstone say when he found out that he had given a man he didn't know those papers. On their own, they weren't incriminating but the way he was asking this man to get them signed was. He shook his head. He must be mad but he was also desperate. And desperate men do desperate things.

Jeremiah hesitated. "There might be something else ya can do for me. If it's on your me-an-U of services."

"Oh yeah and what's that?"

"Flixton has something which could be very useful to me. Just that I know he keeps it ina safe."

Wheat pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Not on my me-an-U but I knows someone who could help ya. 'Course he don't come cheap. He's kinda retired but he's the best there is … at that kinda thing."

"Can ya put me in touch?"

Wheat nodded slowly. "I reckon. Let me get this little job done for ya first then if you still think it might be something you want doing, we'll discuss."

Jeremiah nodded.


	14. Chapter 14

Settling Wheat – Part Fourteen (Gruber)

"How long ya been a federal marshal?" the Kid asked, hoping making conversation would help pass the time as he and Gruber rode to Hardy City.

The Kid saw Gruber stiffen at the question.

"Why d'you want to know?" came the clipped reply.

The Kid shrugged and grinned. "Jus' making conversation that's all? Bet ya work on all kinda strange cases huh? Y'know in your line of work."

"Some." Gruber looked away. "Can't talk about it. Government business."

The Kid narrowed his eyes and frowned. Something wasn't sitting right and he couldn't place what it was. There had been nothing out of the ordinary yesterday when they first met, other than the irritation of the man writing everything down. Heyes had explained that to him and he accepted the explanation. Yet today the man was silent and if the Kid wasn't mistaken, nervous. If they were gonna work together, the Kid needed to know why that may be. So, he pushed a little harder.

"D'ya work all over? Or just Wyoming?"

Gruber licked his lips. "Just Wyoming."

The Kid nodded. "Enough work to keep ya busy then? Just Wyoming?"

"For now."

The Kid frowned harder. For a long time he had been adept at getting folks to shut up. Well one particular folk anyway. Now he was used to drawing folks out. Clients wanted his help but sometimes they were reluctant to open up to him in case he thought they were being silly. Judging by the success he was making of his business, he had perfected the art. However, this was a different situation and required another approach. Frantically he racked his brains in order to keep the conversation going.

"I've known a few federal marshals in my time," he said, idly. "Mind you, it was a while back. Might be retired or dead by now for all I know. You ever hear of ole Marshal Walker? He worked outta Cheyenne for a spell. Oh, no wait. Mighta been Denver. Or was it …. ?"

"Mr Jones, if you don't mind, let's just ride without the chatter." Gruber trotted his horse forward a few yards to make the point.

The Kid shrugged. "Sure. Whatever ya say, Marshal," he muttered, curiosity aroused even further.

He obediently rode behind the marshal in silence for a few miles.

Then two miles outside of Hardy City, Gruber drew rein and stopped. He waited for the Kid to catch up.

"Mr Jones, I'm not sure I fully understand why Sheriff Trevors has kept you deputised. I know you helped bring in those two men who kidnapped your employee so I understand he was making it official that night. What I don't understand is why you went with him to see Sam Flixton or why you're STILL a deputy. It's highly unusual to keep someone casually deputised like that still a deputy without a specific reason. I get that Sheriff Trevors thinks you'll be useful to me in these negotiations with Mr Flixton but he was almost insistent that you came along today. That has me more'n a little curious. Now why d'you suppose that is?"

The Kid grinned as he rode up and stopped. "So ya wanna talk now?" he said, pointedly and then not expecting an answer followed up. "Lom knows Sam's a cautious man. If ya want co-operation from Sam then I can vouch for you. Sam knows me and knows the company I keep. Anyone can pin on a tin star and call themselves a federal marshal, Marshal."

In answer, Gruber kicked his horse forward. Whether Gruber accepted that explanation, the Kid couldn't tell. So this time, the Kid kept pace, casting sideways glances at his travelling companion every now and then.

"I think I've figured it out," he mused.

"Figure what out?"

"You."

Gruber shook his head, dismissively. "No you ain't."

The Kid pursed his lips and looked round. To his right scratching around in the undergrowth he spotted a couple of ring-necked pheasants. They were juveniles and hadn't taken flight at the sound of horses approaching. He wondered how Gruber would react if … . The Kid drew his Colt unnoticed by Gruber, took aimed and fired two quick shots. Two squawks, a flutter of feathers and two ex-ring-necked pheasants lay on the ground.

Gruber fought his startled horse, whipping it round to see what had caused the gunfire.

"What the hell … ?" he started, looking horrified, angry and scared all at the same time. His hand had closed on the grip but he hadn't drawn his gun. As soon as he'd touched it, he had flinched away. A fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by the Kid.

The Kid beamed, pleased that he had made the shots, twirled the Colt with his legendary flourish and dismounted with a pat to Blackie's neck. After what had happened to Heyes, he had taken a risk that he might have scared the unpredictable horse. But no, he just sidestepped the once and tossed his head in protest. Good as gold.

"Dinner," he declared as he tramped off into the undergrowth to retrieve an evening meal. Probably best if they were hung for several days, he mused. Taste better, he added, surprising himself at how refined his palate now was.

By the time he re-joined the trail, Gruber had his horse under control.

"Did you have to do that?!" he yelled.

"Nope," the Kid answered, reaching into his saddlebags for lengths of latigo. "Opportunity too good to miss though."

"Well next time … ."

"There won't be a next time," the Kid interrupted, attending to what he was doing. "These'll be plenty to feed three adults and three little children. Joshua ain't eatin' much at the moment."

Gruber sniffed and sat his horse waiting for the Kid to finish tying the feet and wings of the birds. As he did so, the Kid noted that Gruber was trying to calm his breathing without appearing to do so. Yep definitely something up alright. A few minutes later, he had finished and the birds safely wrapped in oilskin and tied on the back.

"Alrighty, let's get on," the Kid said, mounting up.

Gruber eyed him suspiciously, as the Kid fell into step beside him. His gaze fell on the sidearm the Kid had used to dispatch the two unfortunate birds. A model of Colt that was a few years old. In a holster that was worn with use but again looked a few years old.

"That was er pretty good shooting, Mr Jones."

The Kid grinned. "Awh! That weren't nothing. I'm a little outta practice. Surprised I hit 'em at all first try. Figured I'd just get 'em in the air and get 'em there." Which would be the harder shot, the Kid thought. Would Gruber pick up on that?

Gruber nodded. The Kid rolled his eyes. Apparently not.

"Sheriff Trevors said you live in Boston and you're here visiting a sick relative?" Gruber asked, slowly.

"That's right. 'Cept he ain't sick. Well sick of being in bed I suppose. He had an accident. Busted his arm and foot so he's stuck in bed. Hopes to be up in a day or two if the doc lets him," the Kid said, pleasantly. He wanted to keep the conversation going in case Gruber let something slip. The Kid had a feeling he might. He had his suspicions about Gruber.

"And then you'll be going back?"

"Kinda like to get this settled first. Hate mysteries, don't you?"

Gruber nodded. The Kid went on.

"Hope we get this sorted quickly though. My wife's in the er family way. Be our third. Sure was torn 'bout coming all the way out here."

Gruber frowned. "Then why involve yourself any further? I'm back to my original question, Mr Jones. Why did Sheriff Trevors deputise you? AND who is this … Walter Brown?"

The Kid smiled. "Like I said, I've met Sam Flixton before. I can help ya if I come along. Lom knows er Brown. He's helped out with a few jobs before. Good man." The Kid paused. "Marshal Gruber if ya don't mind me saying so, ya seem right suspicious of men trying to help ya do ya job."

"Men who aren't trained lawmen. This is a delicate operation and should be handled carefully. If it goes wrong … ." Gruber bit off what he was about to say.

Yeah that's why I'm going along, the Kid thought. Then he had it.

"This ya first case?" he asked, suddenly.

Gruber gritted his teeth.

"All on ya own?"

Gruber chewed his lip.

"Without supervision?"

Gruber took a deep breath and looked away.

"Ha! Ha!" the Kid laughed, triumphantly. "That's it isn't it? You're a greenhorn!"

"I'm in constant touch with my superiors," Gruber forced out.

The Kid was laughing hard. Partially at his own expense, for being so slow. Then he sobered quickly. That was wrong of him and Gruber was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Marshal. I guess lawmen have to learn the ropes like anyone else. They don't just appear one day fully experienced."

"No, Mr Jones, we don't," Gruber conceded.

"Well Marshal now we're getting somewhere. I've been deputised before y'know and I know a thing or two 'bout the workings of the law." Mentally the Kid crossed his fingers at that point.

"But you live in Boston?"

"That's now. Ain't always. Lived a lot of my life so far in Wyoming. Almost a local."

Gruber nodded. "So er you've been a deputy before? In Wyoming?"

The Kid shook his head. "No, never in Wyoming no. Here and there though. My partner and me. Why one time, down in Big Ben, New Mexico, Smith and me had to escort two bank robbers back to Junction City where they'd robbed the bank. Caught the rest of the gang trying to rescue their friends along the way. Ended up bringing all four of 'em in. How's that for luck, huh?"

Gruber smiled weakly. "Is it Smith who you're visiting?"

"That's him. He owns the Hardware Store in Porterville these days."

"And it's his plan you say?"

Gruber said it casually but it came out sounding suspicious. Or, at least it did to the Kid. Old habits reasserting themselves? Must be being out West again, he thought. Might be best to play it down a little. He grinned. "He's a reader. Always got his nose stuck in a book. Dunno how he finds time to run a business with all that readin'. Guess he musta read something similar and thought he could make use of it. Pretty good plan, huh?"

Sam Flixton stood behind his desk, arms akimbo. Marshal Gruber and Deputy Jones had outlined Heyes' plan to him. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, you've had a wasted journey. I've decided not to put in a complaint against Jeremiah Curry." He sat down looking nervous.

"Now Mr Flixton …," Gruber began.

"Sam it isn't Jeremiah we want to get in all this. It's Nathan Bloodstone. He's the dirty one. Bloodstone is just using poor Jeremiah," the Kid interrupted, receiving a look of irritation from Gruber.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes I can see that but I just don't know … ."

"Regardless of whether ya put in a complaint or not, the threats are still gonna keep happening. And they will only get worse. Believe me. I've seen it happen before. Someone could get hurt an' I know ya don't want that do ya, Sam?"

Sam looked worried. He felt torn in half. Looking at the two lawmen in front of him, he knew they were right. Bloodstone should be stopped. If not now, then there would be other crooked land deals. Innocent people could get hurt. Perhaps lose everything. Sam shook his head. He was a quiet man. He just wanted to get on with his life. Run his own business. Take care of his family and employees without interference. And this was interference.

"No gentlemen, I'm not going to make a complaint," he said, firmly.

"Mr Flixton, if you don't then we can't investigate Bloodstone," said Gruber. "All we'll have is a suspicion."

As far as Gruber was aware, there was no other Curry dimension. It might come out eventually, perhaps in court, but until then the Kid wanted to keep this simple. All Gruber knew was that the kidnap of Paul Cowdry, coupled with a casual conversation with the editor of the Porterville Bugle had led in the same direction. To Jeremiah Curry and Nathan Bloodstone. When the Porterville sheriff had brought the matter to the federal authorities, the later, already a person of interest became the reason for Gruber being here.

"Sam, Jeremiah leads us to Bloodstone. We need to get him. There is no other way."

Sam groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I make paper! I'm not a detective!"

"Ya don't need to be Sam. We're doing the detecting." The Kid flicked his hand between himself and Gruber. "If ya don't make a complaint then this will jus' go on and on until something serious happens but as Gruber says by having the complaint in place, it does allow us to continue our investigations. All we're asking for is a little bit of help. There's no risk to you."

"Can you guarantee that?"

The Kid and Gruber swapped glances. Nothing was certain of course.

"Mr Flixton, we have our eyes on Curry. We'll know what his next move will be before he makes it."

The Kid had been about to say something similar. He was surprised by what Gruber had said. Gruber was making a huge assumption that Wheat would make contact with Jeremiah Curry and gain his confidence that easily. He was putting a lot of trust in a man he'd never met and whose involvement he was suspicious of in any case.

Sam sat back and folded his arms. The expression on his face told them both that he was experiencing an almost physical pain. Finally he sat forward again, rested his elbows on the desk and his chin in his hands. Eyes closed, he let out a long shaky breath.

"You want me to write you a formula that will fool Jeremiah Curry into thinking he has learnt how I use fibrous talc?" Sam swallowed nervously. Opening his eyes, he saw the Kid and Gruber nod. "And make a complaint against him. That's all?"

"Yeah pretty much," the Kid smiled, pleasantly and looked at Gruber. He was in charge after all. Gruber nodded.

Gruber and the Kid watched in embarrassment at the agony on Sam's face. It seemed a long time before that man shook his head. "I'm sorry gentlemen I just can't do it. I like Jeremiah and I'm sure we can work this out between us. I'll er … go see him. In a day or two." He scrapped back his chair and got up. "Now please excuse me, gentlemen. I have work to do." He almost ran out of the room.

The two remaining men looked at each other. They had tried but failed.

Gruber and the Kid rode back towards Porterville in silence each lost in the own thoughts. Then suddenly Gruber spoke,

"Mr Jones, I don't think you're who you say you are."

"No? Who d'ya think I am?"

"I don't know. I haven't figured that out yet but I'm working on it."

The Kid shrugged. "When ya figure it out let me know. Folks have been calling me Thaddeus Jones for years. I hate to think they've all been wrong."

Gruber looked at him. "Oh I will, Mr Jones. I surely will."

Ben had finally declared the plaster dry. Heyes was eager to get out of bed but found he dizziness frustrated him at his first attempt to stand up. It was several minutes before the feeling passed and he could try again. Eventually Ben and Mary were able to manoeuvre him into an armchair.

Heyes had wanted to go a little further. Out of this room at least. It was beginning to feel like a prison cell. Comfortably appointed but a prison cell all the same. Ben had thought otherwise. Moving from the bed and the few steps across the room to the chair was enough for a first day out of bed. Once Ben and Mary had left him to read, Heyes decided that the decision should have been his. After all, he knew how he felt and what he was capable of didn't he? Feeling the call of nature, he'd briefly considered the chamber pot and glared at the commode still taunting him with its convenience _(no pun intended)_ , but they were only passing thoughts. Instead, he crutched his way slowly along the landing, keeping an eye out for Mary, as keenly as ever he had for a posse. Mission accomplished. By the time he was halfway back he was reconsidering the wisdom of this little trek. The bathroom was further away than he remembered and crutching along was more difficult and awkward than it had seemed at first.

Then Mary caught him. At first, he tried to bluff his way out. Saying he was fine and could walk miles. All to no avail. He had never been able to con Mary and it soon became apparent that he wasn't fine. If Cowdry hadn't come along at that moment, Heyes would have collapsed on the landing in an undignified heap.

Back in the bedroom, despite Mary's insistence he get back into bed, Heyes returned to the chair, promising to be good. Left alone again, he reflected on his little trip. It hadn't been entirely successful. He realised that he shouldn't have done it. Before he knew it, exhaustion over took him and he fell asleep.

Which is how the Kid found him, startling him awake.

"Sorry Heyes didn't mean to wake ya."

"S'okay," Heyes mumbled, knuckling his eye. "I wasn't asleep," he yawned.

The Kid grinned and flopped into a chair. "Came to tell ya how we got on with Sam today."

Heyes wasn't fully awake. "Sam? Oh yeah Sam. How did it go?"

"Not so good."

Heyes widened his eyes. He was still trying to wake up. "No?" he yawned again. "What um … ?" He cleared his throat and frowned. "What did Sam say?"

"He's not gonna make a complaint."

"That's … ."

"I know Heyes, we tried to persuade him. Told him ya plan. How it was Bloodstone we were after not Jeremiah." He paused, shaking his head. "I don't understand the man. He said he was going to go talk to Jeremiah an' try and work it out between them. Try an' reason with him I guess. But there may not be time for that. He don't understand the full picture Heyes and I don't think he wants to." He paused looking at Heyes sadly. "He's gotta come round soon Heyes. Wheat sent a telegram. He's made contact with Jeremiah Curry. Sounds as though he's gonna be making a trip out to Flixton's Mill."

"That was quick," Heyes said, sounding surprised.

"Gruber and me are ridin' up there tonight to meet Wheat just outsida town." He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "All this ridin' around … . How did we used to do this Heyes? I'm beat."

Heyes smiled and nodded. "Yeah I know what you mean. It's wearing me out just listening to you."

The Kid gave him the look and then noticed something. "Hey ya outta bed."

Heyes grinned. "Ye-ah. Wondered when you'd notice that. And I've been all the way to the bathroom and back," he added, showing off.

The Kid grinned and gave Heyes' shoulder a shake. "That's just great partner." Then he sobered. "I think I might have a problem with Gruber," he said, slowly. He winced. "Well two kinda."

"What d'you mean?"

"He's suspicious."

"Of who?"

"Me!" The Kid leaned forward in his chair. "He's a greenhorn, Heyes. First trip out without a nanny an' if I'm not mistaken he thinks I've been sent to check up on him."

Heyes grinned ruefully. "Well you are kinda aren't you?"

"I'm just making sure that this goes okay. So that it all works out right in the end."

"In your favour?"

"Yeah, in my favour if I can," the Kid conceded. He sighed. "I dunno Heyes. This is tricky enough as it is but now I've gotta nursemaid a baby lawman." He shook his head in despair.

"You're equal to it Kid."

The Kid grunted doubtfully. "Could do without it Heyes."

"Kid, Gruber is the least of your problems. Wheat going to see Sam, that's your problem." Heyes paused and looked reluctant to say anything further. "You know how he can be. You've gotta be there to stop Wheat from being … overzealous."

The Kid dropped his heads in his hands with a groan. Heyes gave him a look of sympathy.

"I wish there was more I could do to help Kid. I'm afraid this is all on you."

The Kid looked up. "I know Heyes. Having ya awake and that ole brain of yours working is a big help. Believe me." He smiled and gave Heyes' arm a shake.

In the dark, Wheat thought he heard horses. The Kid he was expecting but he assumed he'd come alone. Remaining in the cover of darkness for now might be wise until he was sure one of the riders was the Kid.

The riders dismounted, tied their horses to the hitching rail and cautiously stepping up onto the porch.

Hidden around the side of the cabin, Wheat drew his gun. He'd stashed his horse some yards away in the woods and approached the derelict cabin on foot. Even though this was a legitimate rendezvous, he was still a wanted man and it always paid to be cautious.

"Walter?"

That did sound like the Kid. Wheat edged closer to the corner of the building in the hope that he could see for sure.

"Walter, I know ya here."

It was the Kid. Wheat was sure now but he didn't know who the other fella was. He stepped round the corner slowly and quietly.

"Is there someone here?" the other voice asked, in a whisper.

The Kid gave a small chuckle. "Oh yes." Then louder. "Walter, it's me. Stop foolin' around. We ain't got all night!"

"Well now Kid, I ain't foolin'. I's just gotta be wary. Ya coulda been anyone," Wheat said, stepping out of the shadows, and holstering his gun.

The Kid grinned but his companion jumped, as the shadow coalesced into Wheat. If he wasn't mistaken, the other fella almost darted for cover behind the Kid. Wheat puffed up; his full intimidating mode was already working.

"Howdy, Walter," the Kid grasped his hand, gave him a hearty handshake and pulled Wheat closer. "It's Jones," he hissed.

"Jones," Wheat acknowledged, turning it into a greeting.

"And this is, Gruber." Mischievously, the Kid waited until the two men were shaking hands before adding. "Federal Marshal Gruber. Marshal, Walter Brown."

There was enough light for the Kid to see Wheat's face take on a look of pain as if the hand he was shaking had suddenly become red hot.

"Marshal," Wheat growled and sending a look in the Kid's direction, that told of his displeasure.

"You have news, Brown?" Gruber asked.

"Ye-ah," Wheat confirmed and looked at the Kid before he continued.

The Kid nodded. "Marshal Gruber's been sent from Cheyenne to investigate, Walter. He's leading this operation now." The Kid widened his eyes. Yes, really, he nodded in Wheat's direction.

Wheat didn't look convinced and the Kid nodded again. Wheat drew himself up and hitched his pants. "Well here's what I found out so far. I's were lucky. I overhead Curry and that Nathan Bloodstone talkin' in the saloon. Seems like they were still in the market for a spot of intimidation doing. So when Bloodstone left, I approached Curry and I er volunteered my services shall we say. He snatched my hand right off. Curry has engaged me to lean kinda heavy like on Flixton so ya best tell 'im to expect me in the mornin' Kid er … Jones."

"What are you gonna do, Brown?" Gruber asked, sharply.

Before Wheat could answer, the Kid spoke. "That's alright, Marshal. We'll go see Sam again tomorrow. We'll just make sure we're there afore Walter arrives that's all. There won't be no leanin', heavy or otherwise. We jus' have to make Curry believe there has been, that's all. That's alright, Walter, isn't it?" The Kid looked pointedly at Wheat.

Wheat sniffed and looked disappointed. "That's right. There won't be a hair harmed on Flixton's head. Ya can count on me to play this straight er Marshal." Wheat glanced nervously at the Kid. He didn't like the way this federal marshal was looking at him. Kinda suspicious like. It didn't occur to him that he _looked_ suspicious.

"You'd better, Brown. Jones and me are close to convincing Flixton to go along with this. He don't need no upsetting. Did er … did he ask ya to do anything else?"

"Like what?" Wheat frowned. "He didn't want me to kill him if that's what you're asking. I don't hold with that Marshal. That ain't my game." He looked to the Kid for reassurance, who nodded.

"I know what the Marshal is trying' to say, Walter. If Smith is right, did Curry mention a safe?"

Wheat sniffed. "Yeah he did." He rubbed his chin. "I said I might know someone. Didn't go into any details like. Didn't wanna play all ma cards at once did I?"

"Good thinkin' Walter," the Kid smiled.

"Did Curry say what he wanted? And who's safe did he have in mind?" Gruber asked, eagerly.

Wheat shook his head. "Naw! He ain't stupid enough to say what he wanted but it's somethin' in Flixton's safe alright. I said I'd introduce him to someone I considered suitable, tomorrow night. Will ya man be ready by then?"

The Kid licked his lips. He hadn't mentioned anything to Cowdry yet. He had been hoping that the need for him to impersonate Hannibal Heyes wouldn't arise. Apparently it now had.

"I'd better go with Brown," said Gruber, before the Kid could speak.

"NO!" the Kid and Wheat chorused.

"Beggin' ya pardon, Marshal but you don't look like a safe breaker to me," Wheat said, a little too quickly.

"And just what does a safe breaker look like Mr Brown?" Gruber demanded.

The Kid grinned. "What Walter means, Marshal is ya don't look … ." The Kid looked Gruber up and down as he thought of a description. "Er shifty enough."

Gruber scowled. "D'you know a safe breaker?" he snapped, realising he was losing any semblance of control over this situation.

"We don't _need_ a safe breaker, Marshal. We just need someone who can _play_ a safe breaker," the Kid said hoping to defuse the suspicious looks flying about all around him.

"Exactly. Then I can … ," Gruber began.

"No Marshal with respect, it ain't you."

"Naw! Ya wouldn't be convincing enough. 'Sides his man looks like Heyes. Jus' in case Curry checks 'im out."

"Heyes?"

The Kid and Wheat swapped glances. This was another detail in the plan that the Kid and Lom decided Gruber didn't need to know. The Kid rubbed his chin as he desperately thought of a way out of this, willing Wheat not to say anything further. No such luck.

"Yeah, those Bulmer brothers thought his man was Hannibal Heyes," Wheat chortled. The Kid swallowed nervously as Wheat went on. "'Course he _ain't_ but they thought he were … so why don't we capitalise on their mistake?"

The Kid looked at Wheat in surprise. "Capitalise?"

"Yeah, it means take advantage of er Jones." The Kid shot him a look. Wheat sniffed. "We say I know Hannibal Heyes and his man here can come along with me as him. If Flixton writes a fake formula like Smith's plan says we need, we'll give it to Curry. Say ole Heyes found it in Flixton's safe jus' as we'd planned."

"He'd never believe that. Hannibal Heyes was given amnesty years ago and no one's heard of him since," Gruber scoffed.

Wheat pursed his lips. "Yeah, yeah. That's exactly why IT IS believable. Ole Heyes was a sly ole fox so it's jus' possible he's still around. Lying low." Wheat noticed the look the Kid gave him. "So I's heard anyway."

Gruber frowned. He looked at the Kid. "Is that … true? Hannibal Heyes is still … ."

The Kid shrugged. "Gruber that's not the point. Cowdry ISN'T Heyes but er he must LOOK like Heyes for the Bulmer brothers to think he was. So let's go with what Walter says. My man Cowdry will go along with him saying he is Hannibal Heyes. That should impress Jeremiah enough so he don't look at the formula too closely."

Gruber shook his head and sighed. He was missing something. He knew it.

"But if Mr Flixton has moved the formula then … ?" Gruber asked.

The Kid interrupted. "He may wella done. Sam's a cautious man but we don't need the _actual_ formula do we? Just _a_ formula that is good enough to convince Curry." He paused and frowned at Gruber. "I thought I explained Joshua's plan?" He was beginning to think that Gruber wasn't keeping up.

Gruber frowned. "Well yeah ya did. I suppose I didn't take it all in, first go round. It's kinda complicated."

The Kid and Wheat swapped glances, both thinking different things. Ya don't know a Hannibal Heyes plan, thought Wheat. You've gotta be a mite quicker on the uptake if ya wanna be a proper federal marshal, thought the Kid.

"I'm not sure I can allow involving another civilian … ."

"I don't think ya get a lot of choice, Marshal. Cowdry is good at thinking on his feet." The Kid paused. "'Course if he says no … then ya might get ya chance. Now Walter let's talk about how we're gonna play it tomorrow at Flixton's." The Kid pulled Wheat aside, settling the matter of who was impersonating who.

Gruber had no choice but to look on as the Kid and Wheat discussed their strategy for the next day. Just who was in charge here? Gruber swallowed. He was only just coming round to admitting to himself that he was a little out of his depth. Yet there was no way he was going to ask his superiors for help. That would be admitting that he wasn't ready to be a fully-fledged federal marshal. Jones and this fella Walter Brown seemed to know what they were doing. He'd go along with them. For now. But if he found anything he didn't like, he'd call them on it. If he could spot it, of course.


	15. Chapter 15

Settling Wheat – Part Fifteen (Alias Hannibal Heyes)

Wheat got to Flixton's mill before Gruber and the Kid. They found him and Sam glaring at each other over Sam's desk.

"Marshal, Deputy, it appears I have a visitor and he tells me you know all about his being here," Sam said, icily.

"Morning Walter," the Kid greeted Wheat cheerfully.

"Jones," Wheat growled. "Gruber," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Sam I see you've met a friend of ours, Walter Brown," the Kid introduced.

"He tells me he's working for Jeremiah Curry and he's here to persuade me to sign some papers Jeremiah has had drawn up which hands my mill over to him."

"That's right," said Gruber.

"Sam it's all working out how Joshua figured it. Like I told ya yesterday," the Kid said. "Relax, Walter's not gonna do anything. He's on our side of the law. Curry only _thinks_ he's working for him."

Sam looked at him. "So YOU say. How do I know YOU'RE not working for Curry as well?"

The Kid considered. He supposed he might be thinking that as well if he was in Sam Flixton's shoes.

"You can check. We're bona fide law men," Gruber said, quickly before realising that was too quick and rather dumb.

"Sam ya trust Craig Carmichael don't ya?" the Kid said, rescuing the situation.

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, Craig's a good friend."

"Well he trusts Lom Trevors and me. Else why would he'da told us 'bout Jeremiah's threats in the first place? He wants to help. Make sure ya didn't get hurt."

Sam sank into his desk chair suddenly and rubbed his forehead, wearily.

"This is too much. I don't know who to trust anymore."

The Kid sat down and put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. "Ya can trust us, Sam. We only want to get Bloodstone that's all." He looked up at Wheat and then round at Gruber. "Give us a few minutes huh?"

Wheat nodded and went to move.

"Er …" Gruber began.

"Please Marshal. Let me talk to Sam alone for a few minutes." The Kid was firm and Gruber finally gave up any pretence of being in charge. Clearly, this man was.

The Kid waited until the two men had left and then leant closer to Sam.

"Sam, you know Joshua Smith don't ya?"

"Yes." Sam frowned. "But what's he got to do with this?"

"Everything. This is HIS plan to get Bloodstone we're working to. Josh is a real good friend of mine. In fact, I'm staying at his house while he's recovering from his accident. Sorta helping out with the chores 'till he's back on his feet. It's 'cos of Josh that I happened to be here in Wyoming. I usually live in Boston these days. Which is kinda surprising … considering who I … used to be known as." The Kid rolled his eyes. He was going the long way round the houses but didn't want to come straight out with it in case he frightened Sam even further.

Sam frowned. "Used … to be known as. I don't understand."

The Kid licked his lips. "I'm in the market for some land and I made some enquires at Bloodstone's office. He wrote me a letter back 'bout a piece of land called Pine Lake, between here and Porterville. I went to see it and I really want to buy it. 'Cept there's a problem. The letter he wrote wasn't for me. It was for Jeremiah. There was a mix up. Our names being so similar an' all."

"Similar?" Sam frowned even harder and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache.

"Yeah, Sam. Y'see my name is really … Jedidiah Curry." He whispered the name. It had been a dilemma. He figured that he had to tell Sam the truth about his involvement in this affair but at the same time he didn't want Sam to think he was putting pressure on him.

"O-kay," Sam said, slowly. He could see how the mix up over names may have happened. However, there was a lot more unanswered questions. Before his mind could form them into sentences, the Kid rushed on.

"Now the reason why Jeremiah Curry wants Pine Lake," the Kid said, hoping to distract Sam away from his real name. "… is 'cos there is a large deposit of fibrous talc on that land." That had to be of more importance to Sam than the fact that he was sitting in very close proximity to a notorious, if reformed, gunman.

Sam sucked in a large gasp of breath, other considerations forgotten.

"But Jeremiah can't buy Pine Lake 'cos he ain't got no money and Bloodstone can't lend him the money 'cos of him being the government land agent an' all. But what Bloodstone CAN do is lend him the money to buy your mill."

"But I don't want to sell my mill."

"That's why Walter is here. To try and get ya to sign these papers. See, if Curry can get your mill then he can use it as collateral to buy Pine Lake and get his hands on the fibrous talc. Now if he also had your secret formula he'd be made wouldn't he?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Yeah he would be. Sheesh! I thought Jeremiah was a decent man."

"Don't feel too bad Sam. Like Gruber and me keep saying, it's Bloodstone we want. Jeremiah just wants to save his business but unfortunately, he's fallen prey to Bloodstone's greed. We reckon a judge'll see it for what it is and go easy on him."

Sam leant forward and put his hands over his eyes. "What a mess," he groaned.

"Yep, which is why we need your help, Sam, like we told ya yesterday."

"Why didn't you tell me all this yesterday? And why send that Brown fella here?"

"I haven't sent him. Jeremiah did but Brown works … ." For a moment, the Kid didn't know who Brown did work for. He gave a short laugh. "Brown works for Joshua Smith."

Sam came out of his hands. "Joshua?"

"Ye-ah Brown's gonna be the manager in his Salt River branch when it opens. He's kinda helping us out until it does."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I dunno. So what are you asking me … Deputy? Jones? Jedidiah?" He shook his head again.

"Jones'll do. All we're asking is for you to make a complaint against Jeremiah and then Gruber and me can get on with the business of catching Bloodstone in the act. But we have to let Bloodstone and Curry think they've got ya mill."

"I'm not signing my mill away!" Sam was firm.

"No an' we're not asking ya to. Does Curry know your signature?"

Sam pursed his lips and then shook his head.

"No I don't think so."

"Good, so I'll sign it as you. Gruber, you and Brown will be my witnesses. We'll all know it's a fake and it'll stand up in court as such but Jeremiah won't know that. He'll think Brown did what he asked."

Sam shook his head. "This is incredible. I hadn't realised Jeremiah was in such desperate straits."

"Yeah he is but we can let him keep some of his dignity if ya help us."

Sam nodded. "Joshua's your friend you say?"

"Yes."

"Is he up for visitors?"

The Kid nodded. "He's outta bed but not moving around too much yet."

Sam nodded. "Then I'd like to see him before I agree to anything."

"Okay, Sam I'm sure we can do that."

If having Heyes talk to Sam was the only way this was going to happen then so be it.

"I'm sorry but my husband is really not well enough for visitors," Mary said, sternly, barring the bottom of the stairs.

Sam looked at the Kid. Gruber hovered in the background, looking around at the large airy hall.

"Mary, this is Sam Flixton," the Kid said. "It's to do with the case I'm working with Lom on."

"I'm sorry. No. He's been out of bed all morning as it is AND … ." She turned a hard glare at the Kid who took a step back. "Who's idea was it for Ted to bring over The Hardware Store accounts? I notice he waited until he saw me in The Hat Shop?" Mary folded her arms and waited an answer.

The Kid winced and scratched his cheek. "Josh is bored, Mary," he groaned. "And he was anxious. Figgered it wouldn't hurt for him to check the books over. Jus' so he knows that he's not losing too much business while he's laid up." He shrugged. "I thought it would help," he added, lamely, seeing he wasn't anywhere near convincing enough.

"He and Paul were poring over them when I came back to break it up. He should be back in bed sleeping by now."

"Okay, Mary." The Kid's voice had taken on a harder tone. He was done messing about. "This is real important and it'll only take twenty minutes at the most." He looked at Sam who nodded. "And afterwards, I'll personally see that Hey… Joshua gets back into bed." He glanced in Gruber's direction to see if he had noticed his little slip. It would appear not. "How's that?"

Mary looked from one to the other and huffed a sigh. "Okay but Joshua goes to bed not a moment later."

"Yes ma'am," the Kid grinned, already starting up the stairs and taking an amused Sam with him. Gruber had sat down on the one of the chairs that stood round the walls of the hall. He would wait.

"Joshua's wife?" Sam asked the obvious in a whisper.

"Yep. She's a nice lady. Josh was lucky. The accident coulda killed him. The pneumonia too so she's being over protective. Can't say I blame her. We're here."

The Kid brought them to a halt outside the bedroom door, turned the handle and opened it, inviting Sam to go first.

"Hi Sam good to see you again," Heyes grinned, as he looked up. Although he hadn't mentioned the likelihood to anyone, he wasn't surprised to see Sam here.

"Joshua." Sam walked quickly over to where Heyes sat and they shook hands, albeit awkwardly. "I heard you had a real bad accident. I'm glad to see you're looking better than I thought you would," Sam grinned, pleased to see his friend.

"Yeah I did but I'm on the mend now. Thankfully. Still not on my feet … ." He gestured at the plaster cast. "Foot … yet." He indicated a chair and put aside the book he was reading. When he looked up again it was straight at the Kid. "I've got this Thaddeus thanks."

"Mary said twenty more minutes and then I'm to help ya back into bed for ya afternoon nap," the Kid grinned, mischievously. He moved to the door. "I'll be back right on time."

"Thanks," Heyes scowled. As the door closed, he turned to Sam. "My wife has turned into a security guard and my partner thinks I need babying."

Sam chuckled as he sat down where Heyes had indicated. He hesitated.

"I guess you know all about this Jeremiah Curry business."

"Ye-ah, bad business."

"Jones told me a little more about it earlier. How are you involved, Joshua?"

Heyes swallowed. "I'm not. Thaddeus is my partner, my cousin in fact. He's involved because he wants to buy Pine Lake. He kinda stumbled onto something big here and I figured out what was happening. Its starting to play out now so it seems I was right," he shrugged.

"Why does HE want to buy Pine Lake?"

"It's a nice spot by all accounts. Plans to build a house overlooking the lake for his family to use when they come visit. Thaddeus lives in Boston these days. That's where his wife is from and where they live as a family. But … ." He paused and swallowed. "Think he misses the West though. I live here so … think he wants somewhere he can come visit."

"And that's all there is to it?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"What are his plans for the fibrous talc?"

Heyes considered. "Not sure he has any. As I understand it, there is a condition of sale on the property. The owner has to offer the ore for sale at a competitive price. If it is mined of course."

Sam nodded and sighed. "Doubt he'll want a full scale mining operation right next door to where he plans to live," he said, cagily.

Heyes smiled. "No I don't suppose he will but he might be willing to permit … say … a small scale operation. Just enough to supply … oh one or two paper mills in the locality."

That possibility was something he and the Kid had discussed previously.

Sam smiled. "It will depend on him getting Pine Lake of course."

"Yes it will. Which is why he's helping out with this inquiry. You don't know Thaddeus. He's a determined guy. If it's at all possible, he'll get it."

Sam nodded. He licked his lips. "You know how er important fibrous talc is to my business. And er … how difficult and expensive it is to get sometimes."

"Yes you told me when I visited that time."

"So um if Thaddeus was to purchase Pine Lake do you think … he would … do a deal with me … for the fibrous talc?"

Heyes grinned. "Sam, why aren't you asking HIM these questions?"

Sam looked embarrassed. "Well … ." He sighed. "He tells me his name is really Jedidiah Curry." Sam looked at Heyes hard. "Kid … Curry?"

Heyes pinched his bottom lip, thoughtfully. "He WAS known as that a while back yeah," he said, quietly.

Sam moved in his seat nervously.

"Then you must be …?"

Heyes interrupted. "It's a secret, Sam. A real big secret." Heyes was firm.

Sam looked upset, sad and nervous all at the same time. "How much more?" he murmured, shaking his head.

Heyes allowed Sam a moment of reflection.

"Sam I know this is a lot for you to handle all at once but you can't ignore it. It's not gonna go away."

Sam hung his head. "No, I realise that … Joshua?" He looked at Heyes sadly and shook his head.

Heyes smiled. "That's who I am now Sam and who I'm gonna stay." He paused. "Hope you can understand why … I've a family to protect. Just like you do."

Sam nodded and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. "Jones and that federal marshal want me to make a complaint against Jeremiah."

"Yes. Then they can get on with catching Bloodstone."

"Okay." Sam swallowed hard. "I'll … I'll do that." He shook his head. "But it's Jeremiah I'm concerned about. He doesn't deserve all this. He'll be ruined."

Heyes smiled. He knew that was hard for him. "Jeremiah could come out of this with some dignity, Sam. I think he'll lose his business but I don't think he'll go to jail. It's Bloodstone who's the crook."

Sam nodded and licked his lips. "Yes … Jones … said something similar." He frowned. "Jones also said something about writing a formula?"

Heyes grinned. "Yeah that was my idea. Good huh?"

Sam's face twitched into a smile. "It'll have to be close to the truth. Jeremiah will have a fair idea about it."

"But not close enough Sam to give your secret away. None of us want that." Heyes was firm.

Sam nodded. "I'll give it some thought. I can probably write something that will be convincing enough." He paused, looked down at his hat in his hands, and then looked back at the man he knew as Joshua Smith. "Joshua I don't mind telling you what you've revealed to me today was a real shock but I can understand why you need to keep it secret. It'll be safe with me."

Heyes smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

Sam got up. "Thank you for seeing me. I feel better about this now." He nodded to the door and smiled ruefully. "I'd better go. Jones will be back in a moment to tuck you into bed."

"Yeah he will and he means it too," Heyes said, wide eyed. "See you Sam and don't worry. I've a feeling things'll work out just fine for everyone. 'Cept Bloodstone of course."

The Kid came back when Sam had left.

"How'd it go?" he asked, closing the door.

"Okay. Sam's gonna make the complaint official and write a formula."

The Kid grinned. "Heyes that's exactly the result I was expecting when he asked if he could see ya."

Heyes nodded, knowingly. "I kinda figured that's what you had in mind."

"I've signed the papers and given them to Gruber. He's gonna accompany Sam back to Hardy City and meet Wheat with them on his way back." He rolled his eyes. "That should be an interesting meeting."

Heyes rolled his eyes as well. "Ye-ah. Ole Wheat don't like lawmen."

"Awh, he knows Gruber is a new one. He'll have a bit of fun but he'll leave him in one piece." I'm sure of it, he could have added.

"How big a piece remains to be seen I guess."

They chuckled and then fell into companionable silence.

The Kid scratched under his chin. "Y'know Heyes I think I'm getting the hang of this thinkin' business. Ya've been holding out on me all these years. It's kinda easy."

"Ha!"

They both chuckled some more and then both sobered when they heard footsteps outside the door.

"Quick! Hand me the crutch. She who must be obeyed is here."

Later after some sleeping on Heyes' part, the Kid and Cowdry gathered in the bedroom. The Kid had enlisted Heyes' help in persuading Cowdry to pose as Hannibal Heyes.

"Impersonate, Mr Heyes? Again?" Cowdry looked wide-eyed.

Heyes sat in the armchair looking up at the two men, still on their feet.

"Well technically you didn't impersonate me," he sniffed. "The Bulmer brothers just assumed that's who you were," Heyes said, helpfully.

"Paul I know I'm asking a lot … ."

"Will I be a deputy sir? So it's official?" Cowdry seemed more eager about that, than what they were asking him to do.

Heyes looked away to hide his smirk. The more he saw of Paul Cowdry the more he liked him. They had spent some time together while Heyes recovered from his bout of pneumonia. Together they discussed a wide range of topics. Cowdry had read passages from a number of books. He had helped Heyes with his accounts this morning. Mainly doing the writing, as Heyes couldn't but offering helpful suggestions as they went along as well. Yes, he was very much a fish out of water but Heyes recognised a kindred spirit. Resourceful, the man could think on his feet and Heyes liked that about him.

The Kid glanced at Heyes for support but just got an interested look instead. Dealing with Cowdry was down to the Kid.

"Well yeah I reckon Lom'll deputise ya," the Kid said, slowly. Now Heyes did nod. He thought so too.

"Will Rose be impressed sir?"

"Rose?" Heyes mouthed.

"Any girl would be, Paul," the Kid grinned. "You'll be a gen-u-ine hero."

Heyes smirked to himself. He could have a fair guess who Rose was.

Cowdry beamed. Then his face fell. He nodded and started to pace, gesturing at a chair, asking the Kid's permission to sit. Receiving an answering nod. Cowdry sat and frowned. Heyes and the Kid swapped glances. Heyes shook his head slightly and put a finger across his lips. The Kid sat as well. This might take some time.

Heyes broke the silence of the thinking man a few minutes later.

"What are you thinking, Paul?" he asked gently. "Maybe it'll help to talk it through."

Cowdry looked up, startled. "I'm thinking that I … don't know you well enough sir. To impersonate you."

Heyes sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well that's kind of a good thing. Jeremiah don't know me either. Except perhaps by reputation."

"But my accent sir. I have tried to lose my English accent but … ." Cowdry sighed. "I'm told it's still very much in evidence sir."

Heyes smiled. "That's easy. One of the reasons why the Kid and me were rarely caught is that we didn't look like how folks thought we should look. There was nothing about an English accent on my wanted poster but that don't mean I couldn't have one. Or could affect one when I chose." Heyes took a deep breath. "And I mighta done on occasion." He paused and shook his head furiously. "We can work on your accent Paul. I don't see it as a problem."

"What if I'm asked about how I plan to break into the safe?"

"I can tell you enough to cover that."

"I won't actually HAVE to do it, will I sir?" Cowdry looked anxiously at the Kid.

"No Paul. Sam Flixton will write a formula that Jeremiah Curry will accept. We'll just tell him ya broke into the safe to get it."

Cowdry nodded. "And Mr Brown will be there with me? Wheat?"

"Yeah, he'll be there with ya but Gruber and me will be close by."

Cowdry ran a hand over his chin, still undecided. The Kid lounged comfortably and inspected his manicure. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "'Bout time I considered giving you a raise, Paul," he said, nonchalantly.

Heyes gave him the look. Really?

The Kid sniffed and ignored him.

"Girls can be expensive, Paul." The Kid paused. "In fact I know they are."

"I've only saw her that one time sir," Cowdry reminded him, looking a little embarrassed.

"Might there be further opportunities?" the Kid pressed.

Heyes rolled his eyes.

Now Cowdry reddened. "There might be sir. If your business here takes a while."

"Oh, I reckon it might. If we're successful and get Pine Lake then I'll be spending a lot of time out here. And of course, I'll need my valet with me."

Heyes closed his eyes and shook his head. He'd forgotten about the Kid's zeal for matchmaking. On the plus side, Cowdry didn't seem averse to this Rose. Which was a step up from some of the horrors the Kid had tried to stick him with when they were single.

Cowdry looked like he had made a decision but was having difficulty saying it. Heyes decided to step in and save the poor man any further embarrassment.

"Yes or no, Paul. We need to move on here." He didn't mean to sound sharp but that's how it came out. Cowdry looked at him and gulped. Heyes smiled in apology. "We'll need time to find someone else if you can't do it."

Cowdry nodded and looked at the Kid.

"I'll do it sir. On one condition."

Heyes and the Kid swapped glances.

"And that is?" the Kid asked, gently.

"That I absolutely … will not have to … in anyway … ride a horse sir." Cowdry bit his bottom lip and looked anxious.

Heyes and the Kid grinned.

"No Paul ya won't have to ride a horse. We'll be civilised and go by train."

Cowdry looked very relieved.

"Then sir I think I can do it," Cowdry said, taking a deep breath.

"Good that's settled," Heyes said, suddenly all business. "Kid, go find us some coffee. Paul, you and me have got work to do."

The next evening, Wheat and Cowdry stood outside the barn where they were meeting Jeremiah Curry.

"Ya ready?" Wheat growled. He wasn't looking forward to this and he had his doubts that Cowdry could pull this off.

Cowdry swallowed hard. "Yes." His unease wasn't helped any when Wheat drew his gun before pushing into the barn. Cowdry swallowed again and followed.

Inside, Jeremiah Curry was pacing up and down. He turned as the two men appeared.

"Where have you been man? We said eleven!"

Wheat sniffed. "Train was late. Curry this here's the safe cracker I told ya about." To Wheat's surprise, Cowdry stepped forward, offering his hand.

"Heyes. Mind if we get on?" he said, pumping the hand of a surprised Jeremiah Curry. Heyes had told him to immediately take charge of the situation, catch Jeremiah off guard. Wheat was further surprised to hear Heyes' voice coming out of the Englishman.

"Heyes?" Jeremiah queried.

"Yes, Hannibal Heyes. You mighta heard of me." Cowdry took a perch on a hay bale and gestured with his head for Jeremiah to take up one as well. "Do sit down Mr Curry. Can't afford to get a crick neck in my line of work."

Jeremiah stumbled onto the nearest one. "No, no of course not. I thought you'd … ."

"Ah no," Cowdry interrupted. "Not exactly. Still like to keep my hand in now and then as a favour to an ole friend. Walter and me go way back."

Wheat remained on his feet, folded his arms and watched, amused. This was turning out to be a most enjoyable evening after all.

"Now," Cowdry said, slapping his thighs as he got down to business. "Walter tells me you have a little safe you'd like me to open. He didn't know the details but you'll need to tell me all you can. Do you know the make and model for a start?"

"I think it's a Brooker. 'Fraid I don't know the model."

Cowdry looked down as if he was thinking. "Okay," he mused, slowly. "Well can you remember how big it was? That'll give me something to go on."

"Well it was kinda small. Probably … no more'n about three feet high."

Cowdry nodded. "Sounds like the Brooker 202 don't it to you, Walter?" Which of course it was, Wheat having noted the make and model when he had been doing a spot of "intimidation" in Sam's office earlier.

"Yep, I reckon ya might be right … Heyes."

Cowdry produced a Heyesian smug grin that almost had Wheat gulping. If it hadn't lacked the dimples he woulda sworn … .

"Let's proceed on that basis shall we? That doesn't sound like it will present any problem at all. Now what am I looking for once I'm inside?"

"Um, well I don't rightly know where it will be but you're looking for a mathematical formula of some sort." Jeremiah drew himself up. "I'll know it when I see it," he said, having concluded that he should sound like a man who knew what he was doing, even if he didn't!

"Good." Cowdry reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. Jeremiah started and Cowdry grinned, when he pulled out a notebook. "Now my fee." He scribbled something on a sheet and then flicked back a few pages, frowning as he if consulting a list. "Shall we say … oh two hundred up front? Three more if what I retrieve is to your satisfaction?" He looked up, his expression such that he expected no argument.

"Five hundred!" Jeremiah exclaimed.

Cowdry shrugged. "D'you want this formula or not, Mr Curry? It doesn't matter to me one way or the other." He returned his notebook to his pocket and looked expectantly.

"Yes." Jeremiah looked sick. He sighed. "Yes, yes I do want it." He reached for his billfold and with obvious reluctance, counted out two hundred dollars. Cowdry noticed they were all small denominations and Jeremiah didn't retain many.

"Thank you." He passed the money to a surprised Wheat. "Here Walter you might need this for our expenses."

"Yeah er sure er Heyes." Wheat quickly put the money away.

"The safe I take it is in Mr Flixton's office at the mill. Where in the mill is that exactly?"

"To the left of the main door."

Cowdry nodded. "Expect the main door to be locked, Walter. I'll need my number two, maybe the number three and possibly the five. We have to assume the office door is locked as well but the number two should take care of that. Can you remember that Walter?"

Wheat had no idea what Cowdry was talking about but he realised he had to go along. "Er yeah sure," he stuttered and then caught up. He sniffed. "Yeah those locks didn't look anything special er Heyes."

"Good." Cowdry got up. "Very well Mr Curry. We will endeavour to obtain your formula tomorrow night. Walter will be in touch the next morning and we'll arrange to meet to finish our transaction."

Jeremiah nodded weakly. The two men shook hands in a business like fashion and Cowdry swept out. Wheat touched the brim of his hat in Jeremiah's direction and followed.

Cowdry's nerve held up until they were further into town where he sat down heavily on the bench outside the gunsmith's store. Wheat stood by his side.

"How did I do?" Cowdry gulped, back in his usual accent.

Wheat chortled. "If I hadn't been there to see it, I woulda said that was ole Heyes hisself in there with me."

Cowdry smiled. "Thank you Wheat. I thought I did a fair rendition of Mr Heyes."

"Ya sure did. What was with the numbers?"

Cowdry grinned, slightly embarrassed. "Mr Heyes said I should throw in something knowledgeable about the locks on the doors. He mentioned something called lock picks? I gather there are different sizes." He shrugged. "I just gave them size numbers. Sounded okay didn't it?"

Wheat chortled and gave Cowdry's shoulder a friendly shake. "Yeah it sounded real good. Hell I was convinced."

"Praise indeed, Mr Brown."

Wheat beamed and then frowned when he realised what Cowdry had said. By that time Cowdry had got up and was walking away.


	16. Chapter 16

Settling Wheat – Part Sixteen (Preparations)

The sound of gunfire woke Heyes from his snooze. His head jerked up and he rubbed his eyes as he slowly became fully awake. He frowned. Gunfire? Still half asleep, he listened. It was some distance away and … there was a pattern. Heyes grinned. Six shots close together, then a few seconds pause, then another six shots. Kid Curry was practising. That was a sound he hadn't heard for a long while and he smiled at the memories it brought back. The Kid had told him he had been out practising but this was the first time Heyes had heard him.

As he listened, he thought two things.

Firstly, where were the children? Were they getting in the way? Was the Kid so long out of practise that he might accidently shoot one of them? Probably Harry. Heyes shook his head, dismissing that as foolish. He was just being the over protective parent. Of course the Kid, long out of practise or not, wouldn't shoot an innocent child, no matter how impetuous that child was.

Secondly, just how well he could distinguish the six shots. Of course, the Kid wasn't as fast as he had been. It wasn't reasonable to suppose he would be. The natural aging process would have slowed him even if he still lived in the West and practised every day as he used to. Six clear shots. Heyes pursed his lips. They used to run together almost as one long sound. He could imagine how frustrated the Kid would be feeling, how slow he must think he was these days. Heyes listened to another sequence of six shots and then another. Hmm, he mused, I think he's getting faster. Slowly.

He moved in his chair, trying to make himself more comfortable. He glanced at the plaster cast on his arm, sighed and rolled his eyes with a shaking head. How much longer? The cast on his foot, propped up on a stool, seemed to be silently urging him to be patient. He puffed. Tomorrow when Mary was out he was getting dressed properly and going downstairs. That'll teach her to abandon him for hats. Then he winced. Awh, he'll probably need to enlist some help and he wasn't sure who would be around. The Pine Lake Affair, as he'd dubbed it, was taking all the Kid's time, Wheat had gone to help and now even Cowdry had a starring role.

Heyes yawned and stretched. All this lazing around was tiring work. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Perhaps another half an hour. He settled his head back and closed his eyes. He could still hear the gunfire outside. The sounds had coalesced into a rhythm that soon lulled him to sleep again.

Outside, the Kid loaded his gun with a worried frown. He shook his head in despair. He was so slow. Painfully slow. Who knew what would happen tomorrow when things came to a head. One thing was for sure. He would need his wits about him and he needed to be fast. He only hoped that he was still fast enough.

Snapping the chamber shut, he twirled the gun back into his holster. That still worked, he though ruefully. He dropped his arms by his side and loosened his shoulders. Then he stilled his breathing and concentrated.

Behind him, he heard a noise and the gun jumped into his hand. He spun round to see Cowdry stepping into the clearing. Cowdry started and raised his hands.

"Don't shoot sir! It's just me," he said, a slight panic in his voice. This was the first time he had witnessed his employer's skill with a handgun and here he was on the wrong end of it.

"Cowdry!" the Kid growled and quickly holstered his gun. "Never sneak up on me when I'm practisin' y'hear?"

"Yes sir. Only I wasn't sneaking sir. I was trying to be quiet so I didn't disturb you sir." In usual circumstances that might have been a perfectly reasonable thing to say. Not this time, judging by the look the Kid gave him.

"What d'ya want, Paul?" the Kid asked, quietly, turning away and checking the chambers of the gun he had loaded minutes before.

"Well sir," Cowdry began, starting to step closer, then thought better of it and stopped. "I've been thinking about tomorrow sir." He hesitated, making the Kid look round and frown at him. "What do you think will happen sir?" he finished all in a rush.

"To be honest I don't know."

"Will there be … gunplay sir? You must think so as you're practising." Cowdry waved a hand at the gun in the Kid's hand.

The Kid turned away and stared off into the distance. "I don't know, Paul," he said, quietly. "But I do know it never hurts to be prepared," he added, trying to lighten what had become a tense meeting.

"Yes sir, that's what I thought," Cowdry said, with a nod. He licked his lips nervously. "Sir … do you think? I mean should I? Would it be … appropriate sir …?"

"Cowdry! What are ya trying to ask me?" the Kid spun round, looking irritated, gun still in hand.

Cowdry swallowed hard and eyed the gun nervously. "Would you show me how to use one of those?" he sighed.

The Kid looked at the gun in his hand as if it had appeared there by magic. As it usually did, crossed his mind, bringing a faint smile to his lips. He looked back at Cowdry.

"You want to learn how to shoot one of these?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yes sir. I think I ought to know sir. Y'know … just in case." Cowdry chewed his bottom lip.

"Just in case of what?"

Cowdry looked fazed by the question. "In case I need to … use one … perhaps … sir," he forced out. "I have … sir." With a finger comb of his hair, remarkably like a Heyes mannerism, he strode to a fallen log and sat down. "Some … experience with guns sir." He nodded and paused. "'Course they're generally a lot longer and … it's not me who is usually using them … but even so I … ."

"Cowdry, what the devil are ya talkin' about?" the Kid said, holstering his gun and walking over.

"Well sir you know I can load guns for shooting. My previous employer, the Earl of Stafford, he used to take me, every year on the Glorious 12th, up to his estate in Scotland. He'd shoot for hours sir and I had to keep up with him. It was no mean feat …."

"Cowdry," the Kid interrupted what was starting to be a dialogue of Heyesian proportions. "Take a deep breath, speak slower and tell me what's on ya mind." The Kid sat down on the log and waited for Cowdry to collect himself.

"I'm not afraid of using a gun sir," Cowdry burst out and then stopped. He wasn't making himself understood properly and he needed to. He took a deep breath, as the Kid had suggested. "I want to know how a handgun works sir. I'm not planning to go … at home we'd say tooled up but I expect you have a different expression here … but just in case a gun should come my way and I need to use it. I don't want it to … look like I've not used one before because that could be dangerous sir. For me and … the parties on my side." He swallowed hard and willed the Kid to understand.

The Kid looked at him hard and slowly he smiled. He shook Cowdry by the shoulder.

"Paul you're a good man. And I'm real glad I'm one of the parties on your side." He sighed thoughtfully.

Cowdry looked embarrassed at the complement. "Thank you sir."

"But you're wrong 'bout not being afraid to use a gun. I'm afraid every time I have to use one," the Kid said, sadly.

"You sir?" Cowdry was surprised.

"Yeah." He hesitated and stared off into the distance. "I'm afraid I will have no alternative but to shoot to kill." He paused. "Not a lot of folks know this but I have … killed. Never intentionally, Paul. I want you to be clear on that. Jus' happened in self-defence, when I had no choice. Him or me." He sighed. "Still ain't easy to live with though Paul. I would hate to think that you … but you're right. For your own protection and for the benefit of the parties on your side, I'll be honoured to show you how to use one of these. C'mon."

The nest morning, Heyes lay in bed; hand over his head, listening to sounds outside. He heard the buggy draw up at the front of the house, Susan calling goodbye. Then the buggy drew away and disappeared up the drive. Mary was gone, taking Susan to school.

"Yes!"

Heyes threw back the bedcovers. Operation Get-Dressed was a go.

He already had his clothes stashed so it was a simple matter to find them. Although the right leg of his long johns bunched up round his knee, they were stretchy and hadn't been too much of a struggle to get on. The same applied to his Henley getting over the cast on his arm. Buttoning his shirt was the thing that proved the most difficult, however. It took him several long minutes to get the shirt buttoned up, only to realise that he'd misaligned buttons and holes and so had to undo. Growling in frustration, he started over.

He had secretly prepared his pants beforehand. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get them on over his cast, he had set about unpicking the inside seam of the right leg up to the knee. All those years of sleight of hand, and time spent perfecting the art of pickpocketing, hadn't gone to waste. More or less ambidextrous, apart from writing, wielding the scissors left-handedly hadn't proved too difficult.

He pulled his pants on and stood awkwardly to button them up. It was only then that he realised he'd lost so much weight they were in danger of falling down unless he had a belt of some sort. His regular one had gone missing. The tie of his robe was the answer but threading it through the belt loops _in situ_ was too difficult. He had to sit with his pants round his ankles to thread the tie through, glancing nervously at the door as he did so. If someone walked in now … . He'd never hear the last of it!

Having dispensed with socks, he was finally clothed. Reaching for the crutch, he was off. Cautiously he poked his head out of the bedroom door. Skulking had never seemed so important. No one around. Good, he thought as he made his way down the landing to the top of the stairs. He paused and looked down. The floor of the hall seemed an awfully long way down and he swallowed hard. Only briefly did he consider turning back.

"Nope, you're here now, Heyes. Don't be a yellow-belly!" he muttered to himself.

Heyes positioned his right armpit over the handrail, his crutch under the other and gripped it tightly with his hand. Taking a deep breath, he lowered the crutch to the next stair. With another deep breath, he took his weight on the crutch and with an awkward hopping and sliding action advanced to the next stair down. He winced and let out a grunt as the jolting jarred his injured ribs. Tongue rooted to the corner of his mouth and a look of intense concentration on his face he slowly managed to start making his way down stairs.

"JUST WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?"

Heyes winced. Damm. Caught.

He licked his lips and smiled pleasantly at Mary, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms akimbo and looking daggers up at him.

"Um for a walk," he said, cheerfully.

"Back to bed."

Mary was firm.

"Nope," Heyes said, simply and shook his head.

"Josh-u-a," Mary said, warningly.

"No Mary. I'm halfway now." He nodded. "It'll be more dangerous to try and turn around than to … carry on down."

He wasn't moving.

Mary sighed and conceded he might have a point. She pursed her lips with annoyance, then sighed again and started up to join him on the halfway stair. He watched her come with an innocent look.

"Can I help then? As you're the world's worst patient."

"Nope. I got this."

She stayed by his side as he made his slow and awkward way down. They were both relieved when he reached the bottom safely.

"Now what were you planning to do?" she asked.

A reasonable enough question but one he wished she hadn't asked. If Heyes was honest, he didn't know. So consumed by getting dressed and negotiating the stairs, the little matter of WHY he was coming downstairs hadn't featured.

"Um …," he started, clinging to the volute end of the handrail.

Mary's hands were back on her hips as she looked knowingly at him.

"Don't give me that look," he said, testily, unable to meet her eyes.

"I don't think you meant to stand here all day. Study or drawing room?"

Heyes considered. In either place, he could put his foot up. The drawing room was nearer but the study meant books.

"Study," he forced out, smacking his lips.

Mary smiled ruefully. She didn't know why she had bothered giving him a choice.

Some minutes later, he was ensconced on the chaise lounge.

"I thought you'd taken Susan to school?" he queried as Mary draped a blanket over his legs.

"I was about to but Jed said he was going into town and he'd take her."

Heyes winced at the change of plan and Mary smiled knowingly. "You didn't expect me to catch you did you?" He thrust his chin out, embarrassed. "You thought I'd come home and find you here and marvel at how you got downstairs ALL on your own. Didn't you?"

Heyes looked away, nose in the air. "Yes," he admitted in a small voice.

"Hmmm."

"And if I had come home and found you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs? How do you think I'D feel then?"

"Mary, if you keep making excellent points, I shall stop talking to you," he said, sulkily. "I'm here and I'm fine. Now stop going on." Heyes was firm.

Mary sighed. "I suppose we'll have to worry about how we get you BACK upstairs later," she said, under her breath. "Well now you're here I suppose it would be cruel of me to leave you surrounded by books and not give you some to look at," she muttered, with fake crossness. "Which ones to you want?" She looked around at the piles of books everywhere. She called it clutter. He called it strategically placed.

Heyes grinned. "I have a list," he said, and with a flourish pulled a piece of paper from the top pocket of his shirt. He held it out.

She sat down on the pouffe by the side of the chaise lounge and unfolded the list slowly. She read with a frown.

"What are you researching?"

"Ways to commit murder," he told her with aplomb.

She shuddered. If anyone else had said that, she would be worried but she knew her husband was writing a novel. Yet the subjects of the books on the list were wide ranging and unrelated as far as she could see.

"Do you know where any of these books are?"

"Yep. Providing no one's been in here TIDYING!" Then seeing that perhaps he was losing Mary's goodwill added quickly. "I'll direct you. Won't take long." He smiled his best smile.

The corner of Mary's mouth twitched into a smile. She touched his cheek fondly.

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah me too," he said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss on her palm. They looked at each other.

There might have been a further tender moment, had footsteps at the door not interrupted them.

"Sorry to disturb," said Cowdry, turning away.

"No Paul don't worry." Mary got up. "You'll be better helping Joshua. Here." She held out the list. "He wants these books found."

Cowdry took the list and glanced at Heyes, unsure. Heyes nodded.

"I'll bring some coffee in a while. Have fun plotting your murder." Mary smiled and shut the door.

Cowdry looked horrified and Heyes laughed. "I'm writing a novel, Paul."

"Ah!" Cowdry smiled faintly. "Yes, of course sir." He still looked a little unsure and there was an awkward moment before either of them said anything.

"Not that I mind, Paul, but why were you coming in here?" Heyes asked, slowly.

Cowdry looked embarrassed. "I … like to read, sir." Heyes nodded. "And you have a lot of interesting books." He tried a faint smile.

Heyes returned the smile but he wasn't fooled. There was something more.

"Something on your mind?"

Cowdry swallowed hard.

"Sit down." Heyes indicated the pouffe with his eyes. Cowdry hesitated before sitting down with a plop. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about this evening sir. Yesterday Mr Curry was practising sir. With his gun."

"Yes I heard."

"He showed me how to use it. Shooting at lumps of wood is hardly realistic. I … I'm not sure I will be able to … fire … should I need to."

Heyes nodded. "That's understandable, Paul."

"I'm responsible for Mr Curry, sir!" Cowdry burst out then bit his lip.

Heyes looked at him. "Paul, Mr Curry is his own man. He can look after himself."

Cowdry frowned and swallowed. "It's my job sir. I should be looking after him but I'm not sure I can. In this situation." He dropped his head.

Heyes smiled. "Paul, nobody expects you to." Then saw he needed to say more. "Paul, when Mr Curry chose to go and live thousands of miles away, it was hard for me. He and I had looked out for each other for a lot of years. Then suddenly he wasn't there for me and I wasn't there for him. I worried 'cos Jed needs someone to look out for him. He can be an impetuous and stubborn man at times." He paused. "But I needn'ta worried. There is no one I trust more to look after him than you." Cowdry looked up. "I know you will always do your best. And that's all anyone can ever ask. If it wasn't for you, Paul, Mr Curry wouldn't have a chance of getting Pine Lake and I know he really wants that piece of land. So you're helping him fulfil a dream. I can't pretend that tonight will be easy. For any of you. Or that it will go as planned. These things rarely do. But I do know that you will do everything that is asked of you. And probably more, if your performance to date is anything to go by."

Heyes smiled. "Don't beat yourself up worrying about this Paul. What will be, will be."

Cowdry took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you sir," he said, quietly. "I have to be you again. How should I play it?"

Heyes rested his head back and frowned in thought. "Well I'm afraid to say it but we've gotta make Jeremiah compromise himself. Gruber and Mr Curry will be listening. They're witnesses." He sighed. "You're gonna have to put the pressure on, Paul."

Cowdry looked doubtful. "How do I do that sir?"

Heyes grinned. "You're gonna have to put the price up!"

"But we had a deal!"

"I know. Paul, but remember you're playing a crook and one with a considerable reputation," Heyes said, ruefully. Cowdry shifted uncomfortably, as if he had suddenly remembered just who he was talking with. Heyes saw his apprehension and sought to alleviate it a little. "'Course that was a long time ago now and I don't do that sorta thing anymore." Cowdry looked brighter. "But I still remember HOW to do it so I'll give you some pointers," he finished smugly.

Cowdry smiled. "Yes sir."


	17. Chapter 17

Settling Wheat – Part Seventeen – (Anne and Rose)

Linnaeus Godfrey didn't know what to do. His source from Helena on Bloodstone had just told him something important. He knew Jed Curry would want to know about this urgently but he had no way of getting in touch with him. He sighed loudly and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder from behind him and he looked round.

Anne Godfrey smiled at him. "I've thought of a way to contact Jed," she said. Her smile broadened as Linnaeus started up from the shop counter he was leaning on.

"How? He was staying here in Cheyenne when we met but he's not here now."

"I know," agreed Anne. "But I pay attention to parts of a conversation that you don't consider important. You know this. That's why we make such a good team."

"I do. What did you hear?"

Linnaeus moved along the counter so Anne could move next to him. They leant arms on the counter, side by side.

"Remember the café we met him in when we gave him the information about Bloodstone?"

Linnaeus nodded and she continued. "The waitress who served us? Rose?"

"Ye-ah?" Linnaeus knew that Anne was enjoying her moment of triumph and was dragging it out.

"Jed mentioned that she and a friend of his were … ." She smiled and rolled her eyes, knowingly. "You know … seeing each other."

Linnaeus frowned. "Anne he was laughing and it was one little comment." He paused. "How does that help us?"

Anne shuddered in despair at men. "Then she will probably know where Jed's friend is and by association where Jed is."

It was a moment before Linnaeus caught up with Anne's line of thought.

"It's a long shot I know but isn't it worth a try?"

Linnaeus slowly smiled. "Yes." He gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. "I knew there was a reason why I married you."

"Our eldest was on his way," Anne muttered.

"I'll go now." Linnaeus said, starting to undo his apron.

"NO!" Anne patted his chest. "I'll go." Then when she saw the question on his face. "You're too … ."

"What?"

"Well she doesn't know you and I know you Linnaeus Godfrey you'll go blustering in there and demanding she tells you where Jed's friend is … ."

"I will not!" Linnaeus denied vehemently.

Anne patted his chest again. "Just leave it to me. This calls for finesse and feminine wiles."

ASJASJASJASJ

Rose didn't appear to be in sight, as Anne Gregory entered the café. She sat and ordered a pot of tea. She asked the waitress for Rose.

"Is Rose working today?"

"Yes ma'am. It's her day for kitchen duty." In reality, it had been Rose's day for kitchen duty for the last three days.

"Oh I see. Might I have a word with her, please? It's very important. I won't keep her long. I promise."

"I'll see ma'am," Sylvie the waitress said, doubtfully.

Rose was her friend. It was on her recommendation that Rose had this job at all and she was still on probation. Unfortunately, Rose hadn't made a good impression as a waitress. She had made one too many mistakes and Cook had ordered that she remain in the back to learn her lesson. Someone asking to see her during business hours wouldn't endear her to an already doubtful Cook. Rose didn't need any more black marks against her if she wanted to keep her job.

Rose appeared a few minutes later, looking hot and flustered. Her hair was in disarray and she pushed it back in annoyance. She rattled the tea tray as she walked. As Rose set it down on the table, both women made a grab for the milk jug, threatening to topple over. Anne noticed Rose's hands were red and wrinkly. Hmm, washing up duty it would appear.

"Sylvie says you wish to see me ma'am." Rose stood, hands clasped together in front of her, clearly agitated at not being up to the mark YET AGAIN. Why couldn't she get the hang of this, she thought.

"Hallo Rose yes I want to ask you something. Won't you sit down?" Anne indicated the opposite seat.

Rose glanced at it longingly. She had been on her feet since seven o'clock and it was now mid-morning. She sighed.

"No ma'am. Cook says I can only have five minutes. I'm not supposed to stop except for the necessary and designated breaks," she said, keeping her eyes in front. She sounded like she was quoting for a rulebook.

"I won't keep you long." Anne gestured to the seat again. "Please."

Rose gave in and sank gratefully onto the chair. It felt good to take the weight off her feet.

"My name is Anne Gregory and I do believe we have a mutual friend in Jedidiah Curry."

Rose frowned. "No ma'am I don't think so." She'd heard the name but she didn't know him.

Anne paused. "Well perhaps that's an exaggeration. I believe YOU know someone who in turn knows Jedidiah Curry."

Rose frowned harder. Didn't Paul Cowdry work for a Jedidiah Curry? Why was this lady asking? "I … may do ma'am," she said, cautiously. "Can I ask why you're asking?"

Anne nodded. Perfectly reasonable question. "I'm a friend of Jedidiah's and I need to get a message to him urgently. My husband and I met him in here a few days ago. You served us. Do you remember?"

Rose had thought the lady looked vaguely familiar. Now that she mentioned it, she did remember Paul's employer here with a man and women. She remembered thinking at the time, where was Paul?

Rose nodded hesitantly, still unsure.

Anne smiled. "I know Jed left Cheyenne but he didn't tell me where he was going. I've a feeling it's somewhere in the vicinity. I presume your friend went with him and I thought you might know where."

"I see." Rose hesitated. She'd had it drummed into her since childhood that she should be discrete and not give out too much information to strangers. "I'm sorry I can't do that. I don't know Mr Curry but my friend tells me that he's a private man. I would be betraying my friend's trust if I tell you where to find him. I've no wish to do that. I value his friendship." And would like to further it, she said to herself.

Anne nodded but looked disappointed and understanding at the same time. "Yes of course. Very well, if you can't tell me where he is, are you able to get a message to him, via your friend? This really is very important, Rose. Otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

The tip of Rose's tongue appeared and rolled round her top lip as she considered. She swallowed hard. After their shaky start, she was surprised when Paul Cowdry had met her after work. She soon warmed to the charming, polite and very apologetic Englishman. They had spent a pleasant evening together which culminated in a kiss that had taken her breath away. That had only confirmed to her that she wanted to see him again. She had beamed inwardly when Paul had suggested that there would definitely be a repeat of their pleasant evening.

Rose dropped her eyes to the table. "Paul said that he would contact me but he didn't say when that might be," she said, quietly. "Mr Curry was going out of town and Paul was going with him of course. He didn't know when he would be back."

Anne nodded. She hadn't missed the anxiousness in Rose's voice at not knowing when she might see Paul again. This young woman knew where Jed was and while her loyalty was admirable, any delay could be disastrous. Anne took a deep breath. She didn't want to do this but she couldn't see she had any choice.

"My message is very important, Rose. Mr Curry AND Paul are in danger."

Rose looked up sharply. "Danger?"

"Yes and I need to warn them urgently."

"Oh!"

Before Rose could say anything, she heard her name called. Looking up, she saw Cook standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She nodded her head inside. Rose was torn. She had to get back to her own duties but wanted could help.

"Rose! Now!"

Rose got up in a daze. "I'm sorry ma'am. I have to go now." She hurried away flinching from the Cook's glare as she ducked passed her.

Anne sighed and finished her drink quickly. Leaving money on the table to cover the tea, she too left. Perhaps she would try again later, when Rose had finished in the café. The young woman would have had a chance to think about it more by then and perhaps be more willing to help.

In the kitchen, Rose returned to the sink and the endless dishes. As she sank her hands into the hot, soapy water again, she thought about what Anne had said. Paul was in danger! But why? How? He was a valet that's all. To a wealthy gentleman from Boston, by the name of Jedidiah Curry. How dangerous could that be? Yet Anne was most insistent that Paul and his employer were in imminent danger unless she could get a message through. She had looked very worried as she said it.

Rose knew that she could help. Paul had told her where Mr Curry and he were staying. If something bad happened to Paul because she hadn't help. He might even be killed! "No, no, no," she moaned, horrified at the thought. She quickly removed her hands and dried them. Her mind was made up. She knew what she had to do.

"Rose what do ya think you're doing girl?" Cook demanded. "Those dishes won't wash themselves!"

Rose walked away from the sink, untying her apron as she went.

"Rose!"

Rose snatched up her hat and coat. "Screw the dishes! I quit!"

She slapped her hat determinedly on her head. With a flourish, she threw on her coat, snatched up her purse and leaving an astonished kitchen behind her, marched out the door.

Out in the café, she roughly stabbed pins in her hat, noting that Anne had gone. Behind her, she heard unladylike expletives from the Cook and giving a smirk of satisfaction, Rose left.

Outside in the street, she looked up and down. Anne couldn't have gone far. Yes there, she spotted her and took off after her, skirts hitched nearly to her knees.

"Ms Gregory," she called as she ran. "Wait!"

Anne heard her name, stopped and looked back. She smiled as the younger woman careered around fellow pedestrians. Rose came to a halt, breathing heavily, hat askew and coat flapping.

"They're in Porterville," she gasped. "Staying with an old friend of Mr Curry's. I don't know anymore." She caught her breath. "Well that's not true. Paul told me the name of the house but I can't remember it. Funny name. Am … something."

Anne smiled. "Thank you Rose. That's helped tremendously. I'll go to Porterville. I'm sure I can find him. It's not that big a place." She paused and looked back. "You'd better get back now."

Rose glanced back. She could just make out Cook standing at the door of the café looking for her. There was nothing there for her now. There never really was. Working in the café was only temporary. She had recently qualified, with distinction, from Cheyenne Secretarial College and she was now in the market for a job where she could put her skills to good use.

To Anne's surprise, Rose took her elbow and steered her on. "Let me come with you. I'm sure I can think of the name of the house given time. Like the length of the train ride to Porterville, for instance?"

"Okay, that would help some more." Anne knew that Porterville was a dispersed town. A small nucleus, with ranches, homesteads and large houses radiating out over a wide area. Without the name of the house, Jed would be harder to find. "Have you ever been there?"

"No ma'am. Never had any call to go outside of Cheyenne city limits before," Rose admitted.

"Then I think you're going on an adventure, Rose. Please call me Anne as we're going to be travelling together."

Rose had never been on a train before and everything was new and interesting. As the train rattled out of Cheyenne, she gulped hard. She was leaving her home for the first time and so suddenly. Anne noticed her anxiety. She leaned forward and patted her hand. Rose smiled bravely and nodded. Once settled, both women turned their attention to the name of the house they were looking to find. For Rose she wanted to find out more about the woman she had trusted so suddenly.

"Anne," she started, feeling strange using the first name of a woman she barely knew. "You said that you were friends with Mr Curry. As he's staying with an old friend of his do you have any idea who that might be?"

Anne considered. She had her suspicions. Jed HAD said he had seen Heyes while he was here in Wyoming. That must mean that Heyes was close and Porterville was as good a place as any. Anne also knew that if that was the case then Heyes was living under an assumed name. Unfortunately she had no idea what that assumed name could be.

So, Anne shook her head. Rose obviously didn't recognise the name Jedidiah Curry as the full name of Kid Curry. It was too complicated, unnecessary and not her business to try to explain. If it came out later, so be it.

"No Jed has a number of friends in Wyoming as I recall. It could be any one of them. It's been a while since Linnaeus and I have seen Jed. Not since, he's been in Boston anyway. It might even b someone we don't know. We're not up to date with his life," she laughed.

Rose smiled. "I wish I could remember the name of the house. It definitely began with Am I'm sure of it." She frowned. "And I think it ended with a y. Am something y."

"Amity?"

Rose shook her head. "No."

"Amberley?"

Another shake of her head.

"It was a word I've not heard before and I asked Paul what it meant." Rose looked thoughtfully. "That was puzzling as well. I think he said it meant Absolution." She shook her head, sighed and looked out of the window.

Anne gave it some thought combining it with her other knowledge. Absolution set her off down the wrong path at first, thinking of something with religious connotations. She thought that was unlikely to lead her where she wanted to go but found herself not entirely dismissing it. Something was lurking in the back of her mind.

"Oh, look at that bird's nest, Anne. It's huge!"

Anne followed where Rose was pointing at a heron's nest, high up in a tree.

"Oh yes," Anne agreed with a smile. "Oh, it's more than one pair. It's a Wood Heron colony. They make huge collective nests." Then something occurred to her. Nest?

Then it came to her. "Amnesty!" She looked at Rose wide eyed. "Rose, is that it?"

Rose was equally as wide eyed. Slowly she broke into a delighted laughed. "Yes, that's it. The name of the house is Amnesty!"

Both women giggled and clasped hands.

"Amnesty, of course it is." Inwardly Anne had another reason to be laughing. The name of the house had confirmed to her just who Jed's old friend was.

ASJASJASJASJ

"We're here. Now what do we do?" Rose said, apprehensively as she and Anne stood on the deck at the Porterville Station.

"We ask someone to take us to Amnesty. A house with a name as distinctive as that is probably well known. Don't you think?" Anne smiled at her young companion. They had become to know each other better on the train journey and she rather liked the impetuous young woman. "Come on. Let's rent a buggy and ask in the livery stable while we're there." She started in the direction of the town.

"That easy huh?" Rose muttered and followed. Rose was beginning to feel nervous. The unfamiliar surroundings were making her uneasy. She had thrown in her lot with a woman she didn't know, quit the job she hated but needed and embarked on a quest to find a man she didn't know. All because he and another man could be in danger. The other man, she hardly knew either but would like the opportunity to know better. She shook her head, in reproach of herself. She had lost the brains she'd been born with obviously. It wasn't really her fault. Must be because of her immersion in all that hot, soapy water for days on end no doubt, she thought sarcastically.

ASJASJASJASJ

Walking out of Lom's office, the Kid sighed as he closed the door behind him. He had been bringing his friend up to date with the developments in the "Pine Lake Affair". Lom in turn had telephoned, (the Kid shook his head at the use of the telephone), his counterpart in Longwater, Sheriff Gunnison. As expected, that Sheriff would co-operate in the investigation, if only, to see fair play for the major employer in Longwater, Jeremiah Curry.

The Kid headed in the direction of the livery stable. He had used Amnesty's buggy this morning, dropping Susan at school to save Mary a trip into town. He'd left the buggy and the harness horse, Nellie, the docile mare Mary occasionally rode, with his old boss, Walt Reilly. Despite quitting on Walt without warning, having decided to go to Boston with Caroline, Walt bore the Kid no ill will. Thaddeus Jones, as Walt knew him, was a successful businessman these days. Good luck to him for seizing an opportunity to do well for himself, thought Walt.

"Mr Curry! Mr Curry!"

Deep in thought, it took a moment before the Kid realised that someone was calling out for Mr Curry. He looked up and there jumping up and down, waving her hand at him, was a young woman who looked familiar. She looked delighted to see him. He glanced around nervously. She hadn't appeared to attracted anyone else's attention. As he came closer, he could see who it was, Paul Cowdry's friend, Rose.

"Er no ma'am, I'm afraid you're mistaken," he smiled, a little nervously. Had anyone heard? Then firmer just in case. "The name's Jones. Thaddeus Jones."

Rose lost her smile under his hard look. "I'm sorry. My mistake," she murmured, contritely. She knew the name was wrong. His look seemed to say, that's who I AM, got it? Very well, she would go with it for now.

The Kid walked passed her into the livery stable and Rose followed her. Inside, another woman with her back to him was haggling with Walt, over the price of a rental buggy. Good luck with that, the Kid thought ruefully. Walt Reilly was a miserly old coot. Frustrated, the woman looked round, pausing as she tried to keep the negotiations civil. As she did, the Kid saw her.

"Anne!"

To his surprise, Anne rushed over and hugged him. "Oh thank goodness you're okay!"

The Kid laughed at the surprise greeting. "I'm fine but what are you doing here?" And how did you find me, he wanted to ask but couldn't under Walt's interested gaze.

"I've a message for you. It's very important. Is there somewhere we can talk?" Anne glanced at Walt. "Privately."

The Kid frowned. Why was Anne here? Why was Rose here? Why was anyone here? "Yeah sure. I'm staying out at a friend's house. We'll go there. You remember my OLD friend, Joshua Smith. Don't you, Anne?"

So that was the name Hannibal Heyes was using.

"Yes of course I remember Joshua. How is he?"

"Fine, fine." The Kid screwed up his face. "Well not so fine really but getting better," he said, nodding his head from side to side. "He'll be glad to see you, Anne." He looked over at Rose, who had come forward to hover close by. The two women were obviously together. "You too, Rose."

Anne stretched out her hand to take Rose's arm. "Rose has been keeping me company on the journey. Wasn't that nice of her?"

The Kid frowned. "Ye-ah," the Kid slowly. He was missing a lot here. No doubt, back at Amnesty, everything would be revealed. He ought to see about that. "Walt is Nellie ready?"

ASJASJASJASJ

"I dunno, Paul. I'm not sure Grantly is sharp enough to use poison for the murder," Heyes said, rubbing his cheek. The cut there was healing nicely. Yet it itched like mad and Mary was always telling him off for scratching at it. He gave one final scratch before dropping his hand. She was right. If he kept on, it would scar.

He and Cowdry had spent the morning exploring several methods of committing murder and poison was the one they kept coming back to.

"Perhaps he is sir and he uses the poison with something else," Cowdry said, slowly. "Something else more obvious."

Heyes looked up frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Well perhaps he stabs Rebecca but not so hard that the wound isn't fatal on it's own. But the knife had poison on it and it's that what kills her. If he was seen doing the stabbing and a doctor swears the wound wouldn't have killed her, wouldn't he be off the hook?"

Heyes tapped a pencil against his lips as he considered. "Hmmm, if it really was just a scratch, it would be difficult to prove that's what killed her." Heyes mulled some more. "Perhaps I can write a mystery within a mystery. It'll certainly add an extra dimension. Well done Paul. I like the way you think. Write that down, please."

Cowdry beamed. "Thank you sir. I try my best," he said, as he bent his head to write on the pad on his knee.

Heyes smirked. "Don't try too hard Paul. Don't want you getting too good at this and giving me competition."

"Oh no sir." Cowdry looked up horrified and when he saw Heyes' smirk, returned it.

As Cowdry dropped his head to finish writing, Heyes nodded tight-lipped. Yep, the Kid was in safe hands with this young man.

Sounds of a buggy driving furiously up the drive drew both their attention.

"What's going on?" Heyes frowned.

Cowdry got up and went to the window.

"It's Mr Curry, sir." He pulled back the sheer curtains to have a better look. "He has two women with him," he added. "Oh!"

Cowdry drew back in surprise.

"Paul?"

Cowdry turned. "Um, one of them is … Rose, sir." He hurried to the door. "Excuse me sir," he said, yanking it open and much to Heyes' annoyance, flipping it closed behind him.

"Rose?" Heyes queried to the empty room.

ASJASJASJASJ

Outside, Cowdry was on the top of the steps as the buggy came to rest. Even before the Kid had jerked on the brake, Rose was scrambling out.

"Oh, Paul, you're okay! I've been so worried!" she cried as she ran, flinging her arms round his neck.

The Kid and Anne swopped grins at the antics of the young woman.

"Young love," Anne said.

The Kid rolled his eyes at his employee locked in an amorous embrace, which by the look of it, was warmly reciprocated. He tossed the reins to a puffing John Beecher, who had run up from the stables, and got down to help Anne. Together, they climbed the few steps onto the porch where Cowdry was letting Rose go. Cowdry flushed as the Kid gave him a rueful grin as he and Anne walked passed. The Kid noticed that Cowdry hadn't let Rose go completely. A hand lingered at her waist, and the Kid raised an amused eyebrow.

Cowdry cleared his throat in embarrassment and turned to Rose when they were alone.

"Rose, what are you doing here?"

Rose explained about how Anne had come into the café, how she wanted to get a message to Mr Curry.

"Paul, she said Mr Curry AND you were in danger. What's going on? Why are you in danger?"

Cowdry sobered. "Um, I'm not sure I can say just yet. Let's go inside and hear what Anne has to say first." He took her arm and started in.

"Paul, aren't you … pleased to see me?" Rose looked worried that she had done something terrible that was now putting her future relationship with this man in jeopardy.

Cowdry smiled and in answer, he pressed a kiss on her. Although their association was of short standing, Cowdry already knew that something special was starting to develop. By Rose's response to his kiss there was a distinct possibility it was mutual.

"Yes, Rose, I'm really very pleased to see you," he breathed.

ASJASJASJASJ

Back in the study, Heyes was determined to find out what was going on. In HIS house, by the way, went his thoughts. He had thrown back the blanket and slid awkwardly onto the pouffe. Where he sat for a moment, willing the wave of dizziness to die down. When he could open his eyes again, he looked round for his crutch. He found it, only a few feet away, but it might as well be miles. He was steeling himself to make a lunge for it when the door opened. He looked round as the Kid walked in.

"Look who I found?" he grinned, standing aside to allow Anne to come in.

"Anne!"

"Heyes!"

She ran to him and she was kissing him fondly on the cheek as Mary appeared. A questioning raised eyebrow launched in the Kid's direction.

"Yeah that's me," Heyes grinned. "Good to see you Anne. You look well." Years ago, Heyes and Anne had a brief dalliance. It had fizzled out long before Anne's marriage to Linnaeus. However, they had remained close during the years the Godfreys were part of the Devil's Hole Gang network of informants.

"I am. What happened to you?" She gestured at his plastered limbs.

"Awh, wounded in battle," he said, matter of fact. Then sighed. "I fell off my horse," he admitted, quietly.

"You? Fell off your horse? I find that hard to believe."

"There was a little more to it than that!" Mary said, sharply. Was anyone going to tell her who these visitors were?

"Yeah there was. Anne I'd like you to meet my wife, Mary. Mary this is Anne Gregory. She and her husband, Linnaeus, were … ." He puffed, trying how to describe the Gregorys. He glanced at the Kid. By his expression, he would be no help. "Well they were … ." He cleared his throat. "Useful people to know." His pursed his lips. "Back in … well back in the day." He slid back onto the chaise lounge and put his foot on the pouffe.

"Anne's got some information for us now. I think we ought to listen to her," the Kid said, giving Heyes a smug smile that said, got you out of a hole there, partner. "Take a seat, Anne." He gestured to one of the wing back chairs. He noticed Cowdry and Rose at the door and beckoned them in, nodding to the other chair for Rose. Mary had no choice but to take up a seat next to Heyes on the chaise lounge. The Kid shuffled Heyes up, sandwiching him between him and Mary. "Go ahead, Anne."

"Linnaeus received a telegram last night from Squidgy in Helena," she began. "When Bloodstone was there he had two men who worked for him. Occasionally." She lipped her lips nervously. "Squidgy says they left Helena suddenly yesterday. They were heading this way."

"How does he know they were heading this way?" Heyes' voice was low and business like.

"Before they left they sent a telegram to Bloodstone. Squidgy was able to obtain sight of it. They were getting the train for Cheyenne. Bloodstone was to meet them at Taylor's Halt. With two horses."

The Kid looked to Heyes, as the local boy.

"Taylor's Halt is about ten miles north of Longwater. It's quiet and out of the way. There's nothing there. Just serves a few ranches come round up that's all. The train doesn't stop regular but it will if you tell the conductor when you get on."

"So if they got the train from Helena last night, they'd be there 'bout mid-afternoon today," the Kid mused.

Heyes nodded, staring at a spot on the carpet. "Yep."

"And our meeting with Curry is at seven tonight."

Heyes nodded again, still staring. "Yep." Heyes stirred and looked at Anne. "These men, have they names, Anne?" he asked ominously quietly.

"Yes."

He looked at her and she took a deep breath. "One of them goes by the name of Carl Didcot. He's a prize fighter so he's handy with his fists."

"And the other fella?"

Anne hesitated and looked straight at the Kid. "Edward Dandy."

The Kid stiffened visibly and Heyes looked at him.

"You know him?"

"Heard of him, yeah," the Kid growled.

"He's a gunman Heyes," Anne went on. "And a killer. I've heard he's fast."

All eyes in the room, perhaps apart from Rose, who had no idea what any of this was about, turned to the Kid.

"Kid …," Heyes breathed. "You don't want to … ."

"I might not get a choice, Heyes!" the Kid snapped.

Heyes licked his lips slowly. This changed things and not for the better from their point of view. The room was silent. Everyone looked at everyone else.

"Excuse me," the Kid breathed and got up. He left the room.

"He had to know Heyes," Anne said, as the door clicked shut.

"I know. And I thank you for coming to tell us." He took a deep breath. "Do you know anything more about Dandy?"

"Only that he likes his reputation. Been heard to brag about it in certain circles."

"Is it well founded?"

Anne hesitated. "Yes I believe so."


	18. Chapter 18

Settling Wheat – Part Eighteen – (Dandy and Didcot)

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

Jeremiah Curry shifted in his seat. "I um engaged someone to get Sam's signature on the deal. And look … ." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the papers. "He's done it. Go on take a look."

Bloodstone reached forward and suspiciously looked at the papers. Yep, the signature said Sam Flixton all right. Yet Bloodstone wasn't convinced.

"Tell me more about this man you engaged," he growled, keeping his patience only because they were in a public place. He threw the papers back contemptuously.

Jeremiah quickly gathered them up and put them away.

"Well he musta overheard us the other night when we were talking and he er offered me his services. At first, I was suspicious but he convinced me he was the man to get the job done. And he has. Then he introduced me to Hannibal Heyes … ."

"Hannibal Heyes! What's he got to do with it?"

"Well see Brown knows Heyes and he can get into Sam's safe for us. So I met with them both and agreed terms. They were gonna get the formula from Sam's safe last night."

"What's this fella Heyes look like?"

"Well he's personable and professional and he knows his business, Nathan." Jeremiah dropped his voice. "He's Hannibal Heyes, Nathan. If anyone can do it, he can."

Bloodstone's mouth dropped open and he shook his head in incredulity.

"Jerry, I dunno what to say," he sighed. "If you'd only waited. I have it all in hand. Two men I worked with up in Helena are coming today. I'm on the way to meet them from the train now."

"Now you don't need 'em. It's sorted." Jeremiah smiled, pleased with himself.

"Ye-ah," Bloodstone growled, doubtfully. "Let me be the judge of that huh? Where ya meeting Brown and Heyes?"

"Tonight. At my house. Seven o'clock. Sarah will be out then. I thought it best she didn't meet them."

Bloodstone pushed himself up. "Okay, we'll be there. I want to meet these two men you were gullible enough to hire. Sheesh Jerry! I figgered you for smarter than this."

As Bloodstone walked away, Jeremiah Curry felt like a reprimanded schoolboy.

ASJASJASJASJ

After a quick bite to eat, Anne and Rose had to get back to Cheyenne. While they waited for John Beecher to tack up Nellie, Rose and Cowdry strolled hand in hand around the garden.

"I can't pretend that I understand any of this, Paul, but I think I made the right choice by coming with Anne today," she said, softly.

"Yes Rose you did. It was important information and Mr Curry needed to know."

Rose nodded. "And what about you? Did you need to know?"

Cowdry stopped and turned to her. "Yes Rose I did. You're a very brave lady."

"By throwing my job away when I really need it. Taking off on the spur of the moment with a woman I didn't know." Cowdry touched her cheek. "To help a man I barely know."

Cowdry kissed her gently. "Yes that's why you're brave. Rose … .Something will come up. You'll get a secretarial job soon now I know it." Cowdry stroked her cheek. "And more importantly, I know we haven't known each other very long but I … think there's something here."

Rose smiled and nodded. "I think so too."

Cowdry kissed her again. This time his arms went round her and he pulled her tight. It was a while before he let her go and then he kept her close. They looked at each other.

"You will be careful won't you?" she asked, anxiously. "I would hate to think that my coming here was all in vain."

He shook his head. "It wasn't. It really wasn't." He kissed her again.

"Rose. Paul. John has the buggy ready now," Mary called. She smiled ruefully at the sight of the kissing pair.

The young couple broke apart, embarrassed.

"I will see you as soon as I can, Rose. Perhaps in a day or two."

She nodded in understanding. Then she fumbled in her purse. "I have something for you. This might bring you luck." She held up a small bottle with an oversized label. "I found these for you. After you mentioned them the other night, I asked the man who delivers the catering supplies at the café."

Cowdry grinned and took the bottle from her, deliberately touching her fingers as he did so. "Rose, I definitely think this will bring me luck." He dipped his head again and brushed his lips lightly against hers. "Because YOU have given them to me. Thank you."

Rose beamed as Cowdry took her arm, steering her back to the house.

ASJASJASJASJ

The big red-faced man stepped out of the relative shelter of the overhang as the train approached. The rain had persisted all day and he was cursing that his heavy oilskin slicker had lost some of its waterproofing. This was an isolated halt and the train didn't look as though it had any intention of stopping. Another reason for cursing if it didn't. He had ridden all the way out here to meet two men he was hoping would be on this train. Their telegram had said as much but with these sort of men who knows. Things came up and plans change. He had no control over them, except for the promise of a considerable financial inducement.

Just as he thought he'd be riding back to town, dragging two redundant horses behind him, the train screeched and grumbled, starting to slow down. So suddenly did it slow that, the carriages almost overshot the halt entirely, only the rear platform would allow for easy passenger use. The train sat, engine ticking and blowing out steam after its rapid stop, like an athlete getting their breath back.

It was a few moments before two men appeared on the rear-viewing platform. As the annoyed looking guard signalled the driver to pull away, the two men scrambled off. One carried an expensive and ornately tooled saddle over his shoulder and a small, equally expensive valise. He was a slender man, dressed as an easterner, elegant suit and bowler. A dandy if ever there was. He looked completely out of place here in the depths of Wyoming. Except for one thing. On his hip was a Colt, with a fancy carved ivory stock.

His heavier set companion, he with the repeatedly broken nose and cauliflower ears, furiously chewed a tobacco wad. He was dressed in non-descript and workaday clothing with a pair of saddlebags slung over his shoulder. Even at a distance, it was obvious, the gun at his hip resided in a well-worn holster. They seemed a mismatched pair.

"Any trouble?" Bloodstone asked as they walked up to him.

"Nah, we were real careful we weren't followed," growled Heavy.

"That's not quite true is it?" contradicted the other, in a refined voice.

Heavy threw him a disgusted look and rolled his eyes. "Talk over there," he commanded, gesturing at the meagre shelter Bloodstone had waited under earlier.

"What d'ya mean?" Bloodstone asked when they were out of the rain some.

"Only that," Slender heaved the saddle to the deck and began to rummage in the valise. "We ran into his bit of fluff on the way to the train." He nodded his head in Heavy's direction and smirked. "Demanding to know where we was going." Now he chuckled, amused by the murderous look Heavy was giving him.

"Dandy I swear … ." Heavy started towards him, fist clenched and raised.

Edward Dandy seemed unconcerned and just shrugged into a slicker. That wasn't his real name. Nobody knew what that was but he found it acceptable known as that.

"Enough!" Bloodstone intervened. "You aren't here to update me on Didcot's love life." He paused when he saw Dandy's face about to speak. "Or yours!"

"It seems, Carl that Mr Bloodstone has little romance in his soul," Dandy said mildly, tugging at his jacket cuffs under his slicker. Earning him a glare from both parties, he nodded. He would say no more.

"Job still on?" Carl Didcot asked.

"Yeah but it's changed. Curry went off on his own and got some help." Bloodstone's facial expression told both men what he thought of that.

Dandy and Didcot exchanged a glance. By mute agreement, Dandy responded.

"Well in that case have you got us here on a fool's errand, Mr Bloodstone?"

Although he spoke politely and quietly, there was an underlying edge to his tone. Bloodstone had "worked" with these two for some years and he knew the man's capabilities all too well. He had seen the aftermath. His manner and appearance belied just how dangerous he was. Easily dismissed as innocuous, this was a fact that Edward Dandy relied on when seeking to put people at ease.

"Yeah, trains cost money y'know," Carl Didcot added, both fists clenched at his side. He wasn't above using them if financial compensation wasn't forthcoming – employer or no employer.

"You'll get ya money!" Bloodstone snapped. He paused. "The job's changed that's all."

"Oh yes?" said Dandy, pulling a flat wide brimmed hat out of the seemingly bottomless depth of his valise. He gave the hat a smart shake and the crown set itself. With a rueful smile at his companions, he placed it carefully on his head and adjusted it slightly. "You were saying?" he said, now adequately attired for riding in wet weather.

"I don't trust these men that Curry has found. Got a feeling we oughta interrupt their little get together and see what it's all about." He gave a hard laugh. "I'm told he had HANNIBAL HEYES open the safe." He rolled his eyes disbelievingly.

"Hannibal Heyes? Last I heard of him, he got amnesty a few years back." Didcot asked.

"Yeah that's why I don't believe it. No one's heard of him since."

Dandy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm," he mused.

"Problem?" Bloodstone asked.

"Awh, Ed ya don't believe it?" Didcot was incredulous.

"Well … ." Dandy started with a nod of his head. "Anything's believable from Hannibal Heyes. I heard he WAS a genius."

"You ever meet him?" Bloodstone asked, knowing these two had run into all sorts of people in their time. He was constantly amazed at who they knew and how they came to know them.

"No," Dandy shook his head. "But I er saw his partner once," he added, slowly. "When I was a boy. Saw him practising his fast draw. Remember thinking, nobody's that fast. Until that is … ." He gave a smug grin. "Until me of course." He paused. "Didn't know who he was then but later I worked it out. He was calling himself Jones." He paused again, this time with a frown. "I heard Kid Curry lives in Boston now of all places."

The colour drained from Bloodstone's face. "Boston?" he murmured. "The address I wrote to Jedidiah Curry was in Boston."

Dandy smiled, enjoying himself. "And of course, Hannibal Heyes' partner IS Kid Curry, whose full name is … Jedidiah."

"Oh c**p!" Bloodstone turned away and used some very un-PG-like language ( _that the author doesn't know!)_

Didcot and Dandy exchanged glances and agreed that Dandy should shut up now. Didcot asked the question. "What time's the meeting?"

Bloodstone turned back, bright red in the face and drew out his pocket watch. "'Bout two hours. In Longwater," he snapped, not at all happy with the turn of events. "We'd best ride if we wanna make it in this weather."

Didcot nodded and fastened up his coat to the neck. "Yeah, gonna be hard going. Roads will be washed out. Ya got horses?"

"Of course."

ASJASJASJASJ

"Deputy" Jones, Sheriff Gunnison, from Longwater and Federal Marshall Gruber, crouched concealed in the shrubbery outside Jeremiah Curry's parlour. They had sneaked up to the house in advance of Cowdry and Wheat's arrival, so they would be in position. Sheriff Gunnison had insisted on being involved in this venture. His had his two deputies, concealed on the ridge, overlooking the road. Their orders, to let people approach the house, but not let anyone leave until Gunnison said so. If there was skulduggery afoot in his town, then Gunnison wanted in with the stopping of it. A big man with the classic, white blond hair of his Scandinavian extraction, the Kid was amazed at how little space Gunnison took up as he crouched beside him. It was obvious that Gunnison was used to skulking in bushes and neither of them were hardly making a sound.

On the other side of Gunnison, not so Gruber. His face wrinkled with distaste as he flicked back the overly affectionate foliage, intent on getting to know him better. He squeaked as a spider crawled up his arm; stamped his foot on a worm and squirmed at the imagined ants down his neck.

"Shhh!" Gunnison glared at him furiously.

"Sorry," Gruber whispered. "I'm not very comfortable."

"Ya not supposed to be comfortable! We're on a stakeout! Now hush up. They'll be here in a bit."

Gunnison shuddered and gave Deputy Jones a look that said, where did you get him from?

ASJASJASJASJ

Turning into the lane came a buggy, driven by Wheat. Next to him sat Cowdry, who was fiddling nervously with his clothing. Even though the Curry residence was only on the edge of Longwater, Cowdry had still refused to get on a horse. He wasn't EVER riding again no matter what and Mr Curry had made him a firm commitment that he wouldn't have to. An adamant Cowdry forced a protesting Wheat into hiring the buggy. As he drove, he muttered under his breath that being a chauffeur wasn't in his job description and he was gonna see 'bout a raise when all this was over.

Wheat liked it even less when he pulled up outside the Curry residence and Cowdry made no move to get out. He looked at Cowdry with a questioning look. Cowdry looked back with a smug face, slipping naturally into being Hannibal Heyes. Wheat growled, and got out, stomping round to tether the horse before Cowdry moved.

"Don't see why I's gotta wait on you. Ya ain't him!" Wheat murmured, as Cowdry stepped down from the buggy next to him.

Cowdry gave his jacket a final tug. "I am now," he replied, set his shoulders and started up the short path to the door of the house. He gave the bell cord a tug.

Wheat stared daggers at his back and followed, reaching the door as it opened.

"Welcome!" greeted Jeremiah Curry, enthusiastically. In truth, he was relieved to see them. After the conversation with Bloodstone earlier, he had begun to doubt their credibility. Now here they were just as they'd promised. The other valid point that Bloodstone had mentioned, about them setting him up, disappeared from his mind. All was well.

"Mr Curry. Nice to see you again," Cowdry said, cheerfully as they shook hands.

"Come in. Come in."

ASJASJASJASJ

In the bushes, Gruber crept a little closer to Sheriff Gunnison.

"How are we gonna know what's going on?" he whispered.

"If ya shuddup we'll hear!" Gunnison snapped, losing his patience. "I know the layout of the house. THAT's the parlour!"

"But how d'ya know that's where …. ."

"Shaddup!"

ASJASJASJASJ

Inside, Jeremiah had indeed shown Wheat and Cowdry into the parlour. Cowdry looked round with interest.

"Nice room, Mr Curry."

Jeremiah smiled. "Awh, it's my wife's doing really. I just put things where she tells me."

Cowdry nodded and then puffed. "Rather warm though. Mind if I open the window a little?"

"No, no, by all means. Sarah doesn't like draughts so … ." Jeremiah made a move to the nearest window but Cowdry beat him to it.

ASJASJASJASJ

The skulkers ducked down as the window above them opened.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Ah! That's better. 'Fraid I can't take the heat like I used to. Must be my time of life, ay?" Cowdry chuckled and moved away from the window.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid and Gunnison swopped grins and then glared at Gruber, who was fighting off the amorous intentions of the foliage again. This time Gunnison drew his gun and shook it menacingly at Gruber, holding the bush back so Gruber was in no doubt. Grubber nodded furiously and Gunnison let go of the brush as he turned his attention back to the goings on inside the room. Gruber gave a muffled squeak as the bush wacked him in the face. The Kid bit his lip and dropped his head to hide the smirk. Gruber was a liability. Let's hope he wasn't going to get them into trouble.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Well, Mr Curry shall we get down to business," said Cowdry, taking an uninvited seat.

"Yes, yes of course. Can I offer you some refreshment perhaps?" Jeremiah said as he took a seat opposite.

Cowdry reached for his watch and flicked it open. "What time is our train, Walter?"

"Er …?" Wheat hadn't expected to be part of the conversation and had remained on his feet. He had no idea what Cowdry was talking about. The plan was to meet back in town, discuss the next move and then stay the night.

"Eight o'clock wasn't it?" Cowdry suggested smoothly, realising that his question had fazed the big man.

"Er … yes. Yeah, that's the time alright. Eight o'clock." Wheat blustered. "Mustn't be late," he added for good measure.

"No indeed," said Cowdry tucking the watch away. "Thank you, Mr Curry but we can't stay. Let's conclude our business and we'll be on our way." He slapped his thighs and put his head down as if he was thinking. Which he was. He and Heyes had scripted this meeting and he was trying to remember how it should play out. "Last evening, Walter and I were able to secure what you asked me for," he began slowly.

"Oh," Jeremiah sighed with relief. "That's good."

"And I have to tell you … ." Cowdry reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a piece of paper. "Now that I've read this … ." He waved the paper. "That I'm afraid I have to change the terms of our arrangement."

Having read it, Cowdry knew what the formula was. He had to admire Sam Flixton's sense of humour but at the same time, couldn't risk Jeremiah getting a look at it in case he would figure it out as well. If that happened, their ruse would unravel very fast indeed. Perhaps even before they wanted it to.

Jeremiah's face changed from happy to alarm. "What … what d'ya mean?" He looked from Cowdry to Wheat. That man looked equally as surprised. He thought they were just here to give Curry the formula, take the rest of the money and skedaddle. Apparently not.

Cowdry leant forward and looked at Jeremiah. "This … is more valuable then you led me to believe."

Jeremiah gulped, his eyes never leaving the piece of paper Cowdry held. So near, yet so far.

"Um … it's just a … few numbers … doesn't mean …. ."

"No, Mr Curry," Cowdry interrupted, putting Jeremiah out of the agony of trying to invent something on the spot. "I rather think that I under-priced my fee so … I'm afraid … the price has gone up."

Jeremiah gasped and he pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Up? We agreed five hundred, two up front which I've given you and three now."

"Yes indeed," Cowdry agreed. "That is what we agreed but you see I know what this is." He waved the paper again. "And I think it's worth more to you than just another three."

Jeremiah gulped. He was sweating now and pulled out a handkerchief to mop his face with a fumbling hand. "Y'can't …. !" he cried. "Y'can't change the deal!"

"Oh," Cowdry lips formed an O. "Yes I can, Mr Curry. You see, Hannibal Heyes has a reputation and if I was to give you … ." He tapped the paper on his other hand. "This for a trifling three hundred, now that I know what it is, then … I would be doing myself a disservice wouldn't I?" He smiled pleasantly but it did nothing for Jeremiah's discomfort. "And I'm afraid I simply can't have that." He features hardened into a man who brooked no arguments.

"How …?" Jeremiah gulped hard. He was no longer dealing with the genial smiling man from before. This was the face of a notorious outlaw, with a fearsome reputation. He had no doubts that Bloodstone was wrong. This was indeed Hannibal Heyes. "How … much more?" he forced out. He didn't have much more. He'd scrambled to find three hundred as it was. Selling items of valuable from the house, even some of his wife's jewellery. There would be hell to play when she found out.

"Ooh," Cowdry pursed his lips, in thought. "Not a lot more. Shall we call it a round thousand?"

Jeremiah groaned.

Cowdry wrinkled up his nose and smacking his lips. "Tell you what I'll do," he said, generously. "You've already given me two haven't you?"

Jeremiah nodded his head weakly. "Yes," he gasped, in a small voice.

"Then let's just call it eight hundred and we're done," Cowdry beamed.

Jeremiah put his head in his hands. "But I don't have eight hundred," he said, in despair.

Cowdry and Wheat swopped glances. Cowdry was asking what do we do in this situation. Wheat was saying, I think you've pushed him too far.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid heard horses coming down the lane at speed. He put a hand on Gunnison's arm. Thanks to Anne Godfrey and Rose's timely warning, they weren't surprised to see Bloodstone and the two men with him. The Kid and Gunnison swopped glances. An innocuous meeting would shortly turn into something much more dangerous. Both drew their guns silently. Gruber was wide-eyed at the development and fumbled to unholster his, dropping it with a low thud in his haste. Receiving a double frown, he smiled weakly and groped around in the flowerbed.

The Kid and Gunnison, in unison, shook their heads in despair before turning back to see the new arrivals tether their horses next to the buggy. From where they were crouched, they would remain undetected PROVIDING Gruber stopped making noise!

The Kid knew Bloodstone of course and Gunnison knew him on sight. Of more concern were the other two men. The Kid narrowed his eyes, noting the fancy holster of the more slender of the two. He must be the gunman, Edward Dandy. He knew the name. Even far away in Boston, professional interest if you like made him keep up with gunmen making a name for themselves. When Anne had said Edward Dandy, he knew he was one of the worst. He was fast and deadly. Always shot to kill. The Kid's mouth went dry and he closed his eyes as if in silent prayer. He thought he was done with all this.

The skulkers watched the three men approach the door. To their surprise, rather than knock, Bloodstone walked straight in, leaving the door open.

ASJASJASJASJ

"You!"

The occupants of the room turned as Bloodstone entered, followed by two dangerous looking man. Wheat immediately drew his gun and one of the two men seeing this, drew his with lightning speed.

"Easy," Wheat growled, in warning. "No need to get excited before we're acquainted."

Cowdry recognised Bloodstone immediately and his eyes widened.

"Mr Bloodstone, how nice to see you again," Cowdry said a wide Heyesian grin of greeting on his face. He stepped forward, offering his hand.

"Nathan, this is Walter Brown and Hannibal Heyes." Jeremiah said, conversationally, ignoring the fact that two men present had their guns drawn.

"Naw! This is Cowley. He was with … ."

"No, Mr Bloodstone. It's Cowdry. Paul Cowdry."

"You said you were Hannibal Heyes," Jeremiah frowned in confusion.

"Yes I did give you that impression didn't I? No, I'm afraid Mr Heyes is indisposed. So he sent me instead," Cowdry said, pleasantly.

"Never mind that," Bloodstone growled. "Whoever he is, he works for that Jedidiah Curry. I TOLD you, Jerry. Something smells around here and I don't like it. Not one little bit."

From where he stood, Wheat was the only man in the room, and the only one paying enough attention, to see the three lawmen silently enter the hall.

The Kid nodded at Wheat and then tossed his head in the direction of the Bloodstone trio. Wheat knew what he wanted and was reluctant. This might be painful. The Kid twitched his head again more forcefully. Taking a deep breath, Wheat moved fast for the big man he was, knocking into the heavyset man. This provided the distraction for the lawmen to enter the room. The slender man turned and fired. The close proximity and the surprise meant his aim was off. The bullet went harmlessly off into the wall, narrowly missing Gruber, who fainted clean away.

"Leave it!" the Kid growled.

"Awh!" The punch Bloodstone threw, glanced off Gunnison's chin, the second doubled him over, knocking him to the floor. Bloodstone went with him, pressing his advantage.

Dandy glanced down. Bloodstone and Gunnison were grappling at each other on the floor. Brown and Didcot were slugging it out in front of him. That left the deputy.

"I said leave it!" the Kid barked, reading the intention on Dandy's face.

However, before either could react, two things happened.

The combined weight of Bloodstone and Gunnison as they rolled around on the floor, slammed into the Kid's legs, knocking him of balance.

The bullet the Kid had intended for Dandy's hand missed him. Instead, it found its mark in the shoulder of Jeremiah Curry. He had risen to his feet when the commotion started and now found himself, hitting the wall and sliding down it to sprawl on the floor.

Wheat, now in his stride and beginning to enjoy himself, felt his right fist connect with Didcot's jaw. The haymaker sent Didcot reeling into Dandy.

The bullet Dandy intended for the Deputy went into the ceiling.

Dandy quickly regained his balance. "Hey you! Deputy!" he shouted.

The yell broke the concentration of the fighting men. They broke apart as if their opponent had suddenly become red-hot. All eyes turned in the direction of the man who had shouted. The elegantly dressed young man with a fancy looking gun in an equally fancy holster didn't look very dangerous to the casual observer. Yet on closer inspection, the tied down holster, the confident stance, the air of calmness portrayed a man secure in his abilities. Eyes turned to the object of the shout.

The Kid focused on the man who had called him. The other occupants of the room, faded into the background. All of them sensed the tension of the standoff. Their own scuffles paling into insignificance.

"Well if it isn't Kid Curry," Dandy sneered. "I saw you once. Long time ago. You were practising your fast draw. Didn't know who you were then. I was just a kid. But I do now." He shook his head. "Kid Curry." He spat the name contemptuously and his face took on an angry snarl. "You're Irish ain't ya?"

"My folks were yeah. What of it?"

"I've always hated the Irish!" Dandy growled, his previous refined accent going by the wayside.

The Kid turned so he was directly facing him. He tried a pleasant smile.

"Sorry to hear that," he said mildly. "Guess folks can't like everyone they meet, huh?"

He had been in this position many times before but this was the first time he had doubts about his abilities. Having practiced several times over the past few days he knew he was painfully slow by his previous standards. To be expected of course. Here he was facing a man who was calling him out. The Kid didn't think he had a chance against a man like Edward Dandy. He knew his reputation. Yet here he was anyway. He had to try a different tack. Perhaps he could take a leaf out of Heyes' book and try talking him round. After all, he had joked the other day that thinking wasn't as hard as Heyes had always maintained it was. And he did a lot of thinking and talking in his new business career. He just had to apply a little of what he'd learned over the past few years to this situation. Simple.

Not.

"I've always wondered who would come off best between you and me. Time to find out, old man. Let's do it." Dandy gestured to the gun in the Kid's hand and holstered his own.

The Kid knew that the time for talking was over. Entirely focused on the man in front of him, he considered his options. He could shoot, take Dandy down, while his gun was holstered. That was only a brief consideration. For one thing, that wasn't sporting. For another and the more alarming, perhaps he wanted to test himself again. Perhaps secretly he needed to test himself again. But why? He wasn't that man anymore. He had a wife and children, a business and a proper home. He had everything to lose. Before he had nothing, no ties, no possessions, nothing to care about with the possible exception of Heyes. Yet, Dandy had made it personal. Sneering at his heritage, by extension his parents, his family. No!

Slowly the Kid holstered his gun. His thumbs tucked themselves into the front of his gun belt.

"Kid," Wheat gasped.

"Mr Curry?" Cowdry swallowed hard. "I don't think you want to do this sir." He sounded calm. He wasn't. Yet he stepped forward to stand slightly in front of Dandy anyway.

"Paul. Step away." The Kid's voice was low. When Cowdry didn't he barked, "Now!"

Rather than waiting, Dandy pushed Cowdry roughly aside. So roughly, Cowdry stumbled and fell, heavily into a sideboard. He grunted and slumped, dazed, against the unforgiving piece of furniture.

"Cowdry!"

The Kid didn't move. He couldn't. Whilst he might be prepared to give his opponent a sporting chance, he knew Dandy wouldn't extend the same courtesy. He could only afford a quick glance.

"Curry!"

The Kid brought his eyes back to Dandy's direction. In that moment, the Kid felt the wave of protection so familiar in the past for Heyes, now transferred to Cowdry. No one, no matter what their reputation, messed with the Kid's family. And Cowdry was his family. He was his best friend in Boston. Always faithfully, always reliable. A little unpredictable perhaps, the Kid thought ruefully. And that's how it should be.

When he turned to face Dandy, the Kid was the legendary gunman of old. His eyes were ice blue and was face was impassive. The only sign that there was something going on inside, the slight flicker of a muscle in his cheek. In his peripheral vision, the Kid could see his man slumped in the corner. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips. He knew what was going to happen, as sure as night follows day.

"Scared, Curry?" Dandy grinned, manically.

The Kid fixed his attention on Dandy. He straightened his shoulders back and loosened his arms, thumbs hooked in his gun belt again. As he did so, it all came back. The feeling, the knowledge, the demeanour. Muscle memory perhaps? Call it what you like, the Kid was in the zone. With it came the language of the gunfight. The preamble. The challenge was issued. Now came the counter challenge.

"Now why should I be scared of you?" The drawl was low and ominous. Wheat and Didcot involuntarily took a step away, lessening the chance of stopping a stray bullet. A gunfight was coming. They both knew it.

Dandy raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh, so you're challenging me are you?"

The Kid shook his head slightly. "No, Dandy, you're challenging me."

"You know who I am," Dandy said, slightly surprised but pleased all the same. The infamous Kid Curry knew who he was.

"Yeah I know who you are," the Kid admitted. He paused and with a lot more bravado than he felt, went on. "Are you SURE you can beat me, Dandy?" he asked, slowly. "After all ya said ya'd seen me. You KNOW how fast I am."

"WAS old man." Dandy shook his head, dismissively. "Not anymore."

"Are you REALLY that sure of that, Edward Dandy?"

He paused again, looking for any sign of reaction.

There was.

Dandy stiffened slightly, a fraction before he went for his gun.

A gun cleared its holster. It cocked.

A gun found a firing position.

A finger squeezed a trigger.

A bullet flew.

A miniscule fraction of a second later, another gun fired.

Another bullet flew.

A bloom of red appeared on a right shoulder.

A second bullet, buried itself somewhere more vital.

A gun dropped from a hand.

Fingers laced themselves over a stomach, frantically trying to stem the freely flowing blood.


	19. Chapter 19

Settling Wheat – Part Nineteen – Kid Curry

Both women were quiet on the train back to Cheyenne. Each was deep in their own thoughts. Paul had told Rose a little about what he was involved in. She didn't pretend to understand it all and she knew Paul had left a lot out. It was Mr Curry's business after all. Mr Curry was interested in purchasing some land. When he and Paul had ridden out to look at it, Paul had been kidnapped by two vicious, bloodthirsty men and taken to their hideout. Fortunately, Mr Curry and another man … Whit? Wyatt? Wilt? … had rescued him from the clutches of these evil men and arrested them. They were now safely incarcerated in jail awaiting trial. It would appear that Mr Curry and Paul had stumbled upon a fraud perpetrated by a federal employee, long suspected but up until now, there was no proof. The sting operation Paul was involved with tonight was designed to bring about that federal employee's downfall.

Rose was proud of Paul's involvement but also desperately worried. Anne's news that a deadly gunman would be present didn't allay her fears any. Nor was she sure about the revelation she had heard later.

Mr Curry had been perturbed by the news Anne had had brought and had left the room for a time. When he came back, he was a little white and everyone looked concerned. He had assured them all he was fine.

Mr Smith had noticed her confused look. "I think Rose should know a little more about this don't you? Before she gets the wrong idea," he had said, quietly to Mr Curry. In reply, Mr Curry had nodded, with a hand gesture that said, you tell it.

"Rose, you know that Paul works for Mr Jedediah Curry here?" Mr Smith had asked. He indicated Mr Curry sitting, next to him on the chaise lounge to his right.

Rose had nodded. "Yes."

Mr Smith had taken a deep breath. "Well a long time ago he used to be known as … Kid Curry."

Rose had looked at the two men sat side by side on the chaise lounge. One, Paul's employer, not as smartly dressed as when she first met him, but his western clothes looked expensively tailored. The other, similarly dressed in western clothes, with his right limbs in plaster casts, poor man. Two handsome middle-aged men she thought.

Rose frowned. She knew the name Kid Curry but it was from a long time ago.

"I think my brother used to read dime novels about Kid Curry when we were children. I remember him trying to read me bits he considered exciting. They sounded dim to me!" Then she had gasped when a sudden thought came to her. "You mean … Kid Curry is an actual REAL person? YOU?"

"Owh!"

"Yes Rose he's an actual real person." Mr Smith nodded in confirmation, with a smug tight-lipped smile.

Mr Curry had frowned hard at Mr Smith, furiously rubbing his arm where Mr Smith had pinched him. Mr Smith had dropped his head to hide his grin, ignoring the daggers flying at him from the right. To his left, Mrs Smith had given him a nudge. When she had his attention, she rolled her eyes at him, with a shaking head.

Rose had looked up to Paul, standing behind her chair. She was grateful for his reassuring hand on her shoulder. This was all so confusing!

"I thought Kid Curry was a … myth? A fictional character?"

Paul had shaken his head. "No, Rose. Mr Curry IS Kid Curry," Paul had said, gently.

"Was, Paul," Mr Curry clarified and Paul had nodded in acceptance of the correction. "Rose, as Joshua says it was a while ago and I've been law-abiding for a lot of years now."

"I … I thought you lived in Boston?" Rose had said, still confused.

"I do. We do. I married the railroad heiress, Caroline Fairfield. HER home is in Boston so that's why we live there."

Mr Curry had smiled in a friendly way but then he had sobered. "When this is all over Rose, Cowdry can tell ya more but for the moment, it's probably best ya don't know."

Rose nodded. "Of course, it's not my business, Mr Curry." Rose had hesitated. "Was it the right thing to do? Coming here?"

"Oh yes." Mr Curry had taken a deep breath. "I can't say that Anne brought welcome news but it is important news. If ya hadn't remembered the name of the house and if ya hadn't spotted me in town, I doubt Anne woulda found me in time."

Rose had smiled. "Then I'm glad I was of help."

On the other side of the carriage, Anne's thoughts were on a later conversation. Anxious to get back to Cheyenne she had asked when the next train was. Realising that they wouldn't get back into Porterville in time, Heyes' wife had suggested they all had a late lunch and head for the four o'clock train instead.

Anne was curious to know more about the woman Heyes had married and so had offered to help with the preparations. Mary was equally as curious about Anne. In the kitchen, she went first.

"So you've known Joshua, as Heyes of course, for a while?" Mary opened.

"Yes, we've been friends for a long time." Anne had hesitated and then sought to put her at ease. Her previous occupation had instilled in her to keep on the good side of acquaintances. You never knew when you might need a favour. "Almost as long as I've known my husband," she had smiled. "I'll always be fond of both Heyes and the Kid. It was interesting working with them."

"And are you still working in that capacity?"

"Nooo! Linnaeus and me got out about the same time as the boys did. We run a dry goods store in Cheyenne now and have two children. We're respectable business people. The Kid asked for a favour in finding out about Bloodstone and we called in a few of our own. Strictly as a one off. For old time's sake."

Mary nodded. Now it was Anne's turn.

"So … you know about his past?"

Mary had half smiled back. "Yes, I know all about that but he's a different man now."

Anne had looked thoughtfully at the potato she was peeling. "Oh I think the outlaw I knew is still there just below the surface."

Mary had blanched at the thought that this woman knew her husband so well. "Yes," Mary had agreed, reluctantly. "But we try NOT to resurrect him."

The way Mary had said NOT implied to Anne that somehow it was her fault that Heyes had taken charge of the room earlier. Anne had recognised Heyes' business demeanour; she had seen it often enough in the past.

"Did you knew who Heyes was before you married?" Anne asked, slowly. She hadn't meant to stress the word before. It had just happened that way. Quite rightly, it wasn't her business but she was curious.

"Yes. He had to take a risk and tell me. If we were going to marry, he wanted to marry under his real name." Mary smiled faintly. "As did I, once I knew. So, in private I'm Mrs Hannibal Heyes. In public of course I'm Mrs Joshua Smith." Her smile had widened. "So far neither of us have regretted it."

Mary had looked thoughtful. "I think he's very happy being Joshua Smith. I only catch a glimpse of the other fella occasionally."

"Like earlier? When I told him my news?"

"Yes. I knew that was Hannibal Heyes then." Mary had paused. "But it doesn't usually last very long." Then she smiled. "He knows his place and he's content."

Anne had smiled to herself. Anyone who could control Hannibal Heyes deserved respect. She had opened her mouth to speak but Mary had turned away to rummage in the larder for cold meats.

Anne went back to peeling potatoes.

"So what does Heyes do now?"

"He owns The Hardware Store in town and he's about to open another in Salt River," Mary told her.

Anne pursed her lips. "Hardware. That's … unexpected." Then she laughed. "I thought Heyes might go into banking or the law perhaps. He's certainly smart enough."

"Yes," Mary agreed. "He fell into it by accident. Lom found him a job, helping out at first and one thing led to another. He enjoys it." Her turn to ask a question. The two ladies were dancing round each other and both knew it. "You didn't say how you came to meet Joshua," she fished.

Anne nodded. She and Heyes had been lovers briefly. She knew many things about him. Not least how mercurial he could be. How much fun he could be, how offbeat his sense of humour could be and that smile. The one that could light up a dark room. She also remembered how exacting and efficiently he had run The Devil's Hole Gang. He had explained to her once that it was a business after all and should be run like one. She suspected that a few of the Gang thought otherwise but they were usually the ones who didn't stay very long. There was a phrase for it. Heyes didn't suffer fools gladly. There were times when he could seem ruthless and cruel. He needed to be. There was no room for sentiment in outlawing or business. And he wanted to be successful in HIS business. Anne wondered if he run his current enterprise with the same mentality. If he did, she pitied his poor employees.

"We were introduced by a mutual friend. Has he ever mentioned Soapy Saunders?"

"Yes. And I met him. Nice old gentleman." Mary had wrestled a cold ham onto the table and then brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped. "Although I understand he was a conman."

"Yes he was. He ran some big cons in his time. Some were very intricate and took a long time to bear fruit. I met Heyes during one that Soapy was overseeing. Heyes wasn't really involved but the con called for a charming young man and he fitted the bill." Anne hesitated. "It didn't take me long to realise just HOW charming," she said, rolling her eyes. Anne had winced. Why had she opened up the possibility that Mary would pickup on that?

Mary had smiled weakly. She turned away then to find a knife.

"This is a nice house," Anne had said, finally to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Thank you."

"Do you live here on your own? Just the two of you?"

"The two of us." Mary had paused, possibly for effect. "And our children."

Anne had looked surprised and laughed. "You have children?"

Mary had laughed. "Yes of course. Why do you sound surprised?"

Anne was stumped for an answer at first. "I suppose I didn't imagine Heyes with children. He never seemed the type to me."

"We have three. Two boys who are around somewhere. They'll come running in when they smell food. They usually do. And our eldest, Susan, is at school."

Children weren't renowned for their common sense and predictability. Two traits Anne knew would irritate Heyes if they were absent. So how did he manage as a father to three youngsters?

"Joshua is very good with all of them," Mary had said, as if reading her thoughts.

Which made Anne wonder more about the woman he'd married. Mary was beautiful, Anne hadn't expected anything less. Although it was fair to say, she did look a little flustered right then. And intelligent. She obviously knew her husband well and by the way, Mary spoke to Heyes, Anne could tell that she held great sway over him. The curious thing was that Heyes seemed happy to let her. What made a man who liked to be in control defer to someone else? And a woman to boot.

Anne had turned to face her. "Mary … can I call you Mary?"

"Yes of course … Anne."

"Heyes looks very happy and settled. And I'm really pleased for him. I last saw him when the amnesty was still hanging over the boy's heads and they were wondering if they'd ever get it. I think they were beginning to think that the Governor was stringing them along." Anne had looked at the potato in her hand. The last time she had seen Heyes, he was drinking heavily, looked older and weary. She wasn't going to tell Mary that so she had just smiled instead. "I'm glad things worked out. I think you were just what Heyes needed."

Mary had pursed her lips and folded her arms. "I do wonder sometimes whether he misses it," she had sighed. "You know the thrill. The challenge. The excitement. His life is so humdrum these days in comparison."

Anne had shaken her head. "I shouldn't think so. I should imagine it was a huge relief when Hoyt came through."

"Yes. I expect you're right."

Mary had set to slicing ham.

"Well he relived it all writing the stories," Mary had said, suddenly. "I think that was traumatic enough."

"Stories?" Anne had queried curiously.

"Yes. He started by writing a few stories for the local paper using Hannibal Heyes as a pen name. They've become very popular here and the writer being a mystery adds to their popularity. There aren't that many people in this town who know that Joshua really IS Hannibal Heyes. Even the editor of the paper doesn't know for sure. Although I think, he's suspected. Fairly soon after Joshua started writing them, a publisher friend of Jed's in Boston, read them and offered Josh a book contract. He's written four, one about his childhood and how he fell into outlawing, one about being an outlaw and two about trying to go straight. We had no idea in the beginning how successful they would be."

Anne had turned in surprise. "I've seen those books. I've never read them because I thought they were just someone taking advantage of his name for a spot of sensational writing. So HEYES wrote them?"

Mary had laughed. "Yes. He enjoys writing. Crafting the words, developing the plot, fleshing out the characters." Mary smiled. "He's not so wild about the typing and the editing though. But I don't think they'll be anymore outlaw books. He's turned his hand to fiction writing these days."

"He was PAID for writing about his … criminal … life?" Anne asked, doubtfully.

Mary had shaken her head. "No. He didn't want to profit anymore from that life." Mary rolled her eyes. "And he didn't think the Governor would be too pleased either if he did. So he had Craig, the editor of the Porterville Bugle, put in a disclaimer that the stories were written for fun and not for profit." She had paused. "It's a slightly different story with the books. We're only keeping a tiny percentage of the royalties and those are locked away for the children. The rest are going to charity. Joshua has started writing thrillers now. Last month, saw the publication of his first book and all the signs are good that he'll be equally as successful. He's working on his next already. I think it's a murder mystery."

Anne smiled. "I shall look out for his books now I know who the author is."

Silence had descended on the kitchen except for scraping of potatoes and slicing of cold meat.

"I'm …. ."

"So what … ."

They had laughed, easily together, the ice finally broken.

"You first," Mary said.

"I'm curious about the name of the house. Amnesty. As Heyes is using another name, isn't that a little risky?"

Mary had looked as though she was choosing her words carefully. "Possibly but he didn't get a choice. Hard to go Straight Volume 2 came out while we were building this house so I decided Amnesty was an appropriate name."

"You did?" Anne was surprised.

"Yes. You see Joshua is playing a game and I thought it would help him."

"A game?"

"Yes Porterville LIKES the Hannibal Heyes stories. The town is proud of the fact that it's here that the stories were first published in THEIR newspaper. I think a lot of folks in town HAVE suspected who Josh really is but no one has said anything directly to me or to him. He's on the Town Council. He's a member of a number of societies. He's well liked here. When it does finally come out that he IS Hannibal Heyes, I don't think that Porterville will have much trouble accepting it. I also think the further away in time we get the easier it will be. And I think that's what he wants, a slow realisation." She paused, with a small mischievous grin. "Of course he told anyone who asked at the time that as the whole town was talking about Hannibal Heyes and amnesty, it was just a word that stuck in the mind." Mary had laughed. "I'm not sure how many folks actually believed that but it doesn't seem to have done any harm."

At that moment, two small boys had entered the kitchen in a rush. Both had their father's stamp on them, blessed with his dark eyes. Only the elder boy had his mother's light brown hair colouring.

"Is there anything to eat, Mama?" the younger had asked.

"Yeah, I'm starving!" the elder added. "Oops!"

Both pulled up short when they realised their mother wasn't alone. Mary had folded her arms and looked at them in horror. Both boys were dusty and dishevelled and the elder boy had rips in his shirt and pants.

"WHAT ON EARTH HAVE YOU TWO BEEN DOING?" Mary had yelled, getting hold of the younger boy and giving his clothes a not too gentle brushing.

"Um," started the older boy, glancing at the strange woman and sidling behind her. Anne smiled in amusement. She had one just like him at home. "Playing, Mama." Mary had yanked him out from behind Anne and brushed him down hard. "Owh! Mama!"

"Look at you! Honestly Harry, this shirt was new!" Mary said, on her knees, as she tried to fold the ripped piece of cloth back where it belonged.

"I thought I hadn't seen it before," the boy had muttered but only Anne had heard. He fixed Mary with a broad innocent smile, very reminiscent of his father.

"Mind your manners. This is Anne. She's a friend of Pappy's. Say hallo like good boys."

"Hallo," they had chorused obediently.

"This is Billy and this rascal here is Harry."

Harry had frowned at his mother who gave him a wide-eyed look back.

"Hallo boys," Anne smiled.

"Food will be ready shortly. Now you two go and wash up." Mary got to her feet. "And Harry change your clothes. If your father sees you like that … ." She didn't finish. She had no need to. As they dashed away, she shook her head.

"What do you do?" she asked Anne helplessly.

Anne laughed. "There's not a lot."

Back on the train, Anne smiled. Heyes had a lovely home and a nice family. She was glad. Knowing how hard trying for amnesty had been on both former outlaws, Heyes deserved it.

ASJASJASJASJ

As Anne and Rose's train was pulling into Cheyenne, a hundred miles away in Longwater, the situation had become violent. The second bullet had buried itself deep in the stomach of Edward Dandy. Dropping the gun, he looked down in shock. In all the gunfights he'd had, no one had even come close. No one had even winged him. He'd never had a scratch. Now this was more than a scratch. This was life threatening. No! The realisation dropped him to his knees and then he keeled over.

Seeing the damage he'd done to Dandy, the Kid staggered backwards into the hall. Where he tripped over the unconscious legs of Gruber. He stumbled and he sank heavily onto the stairs. The whole of his right arm was numb, no pain yet in his shoulder. He knew there would be. Yet he was euphoric. He'd done it. Taken on a younger, faster man and he was still alive! Clutching his shoulder, he began to laugh, almost hysterically. He was alive!

In the room, the brawlers sought to take advantage of their opponent's distraction by landing the resuming punch.

Across the room, Cowdry blinked. "Owh!" He felt the back of his head and felt the bump. He gingerly sat up and quickly took in the situation. It was much as he'd left it. Except Dandy was lying on the floor in obvious agony. In the hall, he could see his employer sitting on the stairs, holding the shoulder where a bullet had hit. Blood was seeping out between his fingers, his right arm hung limply at his side. Yet he appeared to be laughing. Cowdry fleetingly wondered if he should go and help him. Then looking around at the melee ensuing, he quickly decided that he should try stopping that first.

Cowdry saw the gun where Dandy had dropped it and he crept closer. He glanced round to see if anyone was watching him. No one was. All too preoccupied with fighting their various opponents. He closed his hand around it and shuffled himself into a sitting position with his back to the sideboard. Dropping the gun onto his lap, he rummaged in his jacket pocket until he found what he was looking for, a small bottle with an oversized label. Keeping an eye out, he tore off as much of the label as he could and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Having made a decision, he got to his feet, hesitated and then fired a shot into the ceiling.

"IF I MIGHT HAVE EVERYONE'S ATTENTION JUST FOR ONE MOMENT PLEASE!" Cowdry yelled.

The Kid, panting as adrenalin from his exertions retreated and pain swept in looked at him in disbelief. What on earth was Cowdry doing now?

The shot and the yell had the desired effect although Dandy continued to writhe in agony on the floor.

"I'D LIKE TO BRING THIS TO YOUR NOTICE. VERY IMPORTANT."

Cowdry was holding the small brown bottle high in the air.

"What the hell's that?" Bloodstone growled, pushing Sheriff Gunnison off him.

"This Mr Bloodstone is the antidote."

"ANTIDOTE? Antidote for what?"

"The poison," Cowdry smiled, smugly.

The Kid rolled his eyes. He had no idea.

"You see what a lot of you won't know is that I'm Mr Curry's valet. As his valet, I loaded his gun for him this morning. Now Mr Curry … ." He gestured at the Kid with Dandy's gun. "Is a little out of practise these days. With one of these." He waved the gun for emphasis. "As a responsible valet it is my job to look after my employer's interests and it seemed to me that he ought to have an edge. Don't you agree?" He didn't wait for an answer but continued. "So when I loaded Mr Curry's gun for him this morning I took the liberty of … ." Cowdry smiled somewhat embarrassed. "Dipping the bullets in curare first."

"What the HELL is curare?" Bloodstone thundered. At the same time, he was thinking he had stepped into some bizarre farce.

"Oh!" Cowdry started, suddenly realising that he had been a little opaque. "Curare is a deadly poison that South American Indians use for hunting," he said, knowledgably. "It brings down game by relaxing the muscles. In a very short space of time, those of you who have been unfortunate will begin to feel the effects." He ended with a pleasant smile and then gave a deep sigh. He nodded to Jeremiah and looked at Dandy. "Exposure to it will mean that the victim will suffer from curare poisoning. In this case … as well as a gunshot." Smug grin. "So … if you don't want your friends to die a really, REALLY horrible and painful, if not frightening death, I suggest you stop now and let these nice officers of the law arrest you." Another smug grin.

Bloodstone stared at him open mouthed. "You're bluffing!" Bloodstone knew if he was arrested, he'd be going away for a very long time. That was something he knew he wouldn't survive for very long.

"I don't know, Nathan," gasped Jeremiah, finding it difficult to breath. "He's Hannibal Heyes. I think we should believe him." Jeremiah sounded desperate, struggling to keep awake and sweating profusely. He felt his strength giving out and he began to slip sideways.

"He's NOT Hannibal Heyes. How many times I gotta tell ya?"

"Well I do admit there's been a certain ambiguity over my identity during my dealings with you gentlemen but well … ." Cowdry shook his head. "Can you afford to take the risk that I'm NOT Hannibal Heyes?" He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Especially as I have the antidote right here in my hand. It will need a doctor to administer it of course. Dangerous stuff in it's own right but it shouldn't be a problem to get him here on time. I mean after all … ."

"Nathan. Please. I'm begging you." Jeremiah said as he slid down the wall, losing his ability to stay upright as well as his grip on consciousness.

"Aaagh!" bellowed Bloodstone, starting to lunge at Cowdry. Behind him, Gunnison had freed his handcuffs from his pocket as Cowdry was speaking. Before Bloodstone could get more than a few steps towards Cowdry, Gunnison pulled Bloodstone's arms behind his back and snapped the cuffs shut before he knew what was happening. "Aaagh!"

At the same time, Wheat, by now unfazed by Cowdry's speeches, used his gun to clunk Didcot on the head. The heavyset man collapsed into a satisfying heap.

Out in the hall, Gruber came back to consciousness and groaned. "What did I miss?" he gasped.

The Kid clapped a bloody hand on the federal marshal's shoulder. "Ya missed it all, Gruber," he laughed. "Ya missed it all."

ASJASJASJASJ

"Cowdry what was in that bottle?" the Kid asked, later. The Doc and his nurse had arrived promptly when summoned. Cowdry had used a temporary dressing to stem the flow of blood from the Kid's shoulder. The nurse went to the aid of Jeremiah Curry, after the Kid had waved her away. Tending properly to his bullet wound would have to wait for later. The Kid knew the bullet had gone right through. Jeremiah was in greater need of attention than he was. He could wait. So for now, the Kid lay propped up on the couch in Jeremiah's study, nearly as white as the sling on his arm. He was starting to get some feeling back in his hand.

The bullet he had fired was a different matter. Right now, the Doc was concentrating on saving Dandy's life. The Kid was anxious. Dandy hadn't looked too good.

"Angostura Bitters sir," Cowdry said, with aplomb.

"Anger what?"

"Angostura Bitters sir. They've saved many a life sir. My previous employer swore by them. Insisted they were added to his drink every night sir." Cowdry looked at the Kid as if that explained everything.

"Cowdry," the Kid said, through gritted teeth. "How did you … ?" He spluttered. "How do you even KNOW about curare? Let alone the antidote?"

"Ah! Yes I see your confusion sir." He paused. "I've been helping Mr Heyes with his research sir." The Kid blinked. "Research for his next book. Writing notes for him. As he can't … ." He paused and mimed writing. "Because of his arm sir."

"Cowdry! I KNOW Heyes can't write at the moment AND I know he can't read his left-handed attempts! Jus' … get on with it!"

"Yes sir." Cowdry nodded. "Well his research involves ways of murdering someone. We came across curare poison and the antidote comes in a little brown bottle. Like this one." He held up the bottle of angostura bitters. "So I just thought that I could use it to … bluff … sir." He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry sir if I did wrong but I thought things should come to a halt. They looked like they were getting a little out of hand."

The Kid smiled faintly. "Cowdry ya did fine. I owe you my thanks." Cowdry beamed. "Jus' tell me one thing. Where on earth did ya get these anger-whatsits from?"

"Um well … ." Cowdry looked embarrassed. "When I saw Rose the first time, we were chatting and … well I'd … ." The usually unflappable man now flapped. "I er … well I must have mentioned them sir and she found them for me, gave them to me when we met earlier. As a … a present sir because we're … ." Cowdry flushed and his tongue explored his mouth. "Stepping out sir," he finished, quietly, unable to meet the Kid's eyes.

Despite the pain he was in, the Kid smiled. "Paul I don't wanna know what you talk to Rose about but I'll say this, I'm real glad ya did. I reckon Bloodstone and his boys would have had us if ya hadn't intervened."

Cowdry beamed and nodded. "That's what I thought so … not exactly Marquis of Queensbury was it sir but it er did the trick."

"Yeah I'll say. And curare? Never heard of it but it sounds like I'm gonna have to watch myself around ya in future. There's no telling WHAT you can put in my food."

"Oh sir I wouldn't dream of it. I just like to read sir and I seem to be able to retain what I read and recall it on a future occasion." Cowdry edged to the door. "I'm sure you're familiar with that sir."

The Kid looked doubtful. "Ye-ah, suppose I am. Check on Dandy for me Paul would ya? He didn't look too good." The Kid looked concerned.

Cowdry nodded. "Yes sir."

As he opened the door to go out, Wheat was waiting to come in. Cowdry nodded to him, looked back at the Kid for permission to let him come in.

"Come in … Walter." The Kid thought he'd better continue with Wheat's alias while there were lawmen around.

Wheat closed the door and crossed the floor to the couch. He winced as he opened and closed his fists.

"Well that was jus' like ole times, Kid. Haven't had me a party like that in quite a whiles." He pressed his shoulder blades back together. "'Course I reckon I'm outta practice a mite," he grunted and then felt his shoulder.

"I reckon we're all getting a little too old for this kinda thing, Wheat," the Kid said, nodding at his injured shoulder. "Has the law got 'em?"

Wheat nodded and swelled proudly. "I helped those of the crime fighting persuasion round up the bad guys. But I er reckon I'm about outstayed ma welcome. If'n ya know what I mean."

The Kid smiled. "Yeah I know what ya mean, Wheat. Duck out the window. I'll cover for ya."

"Don't mind if I do," he said, crossing quickly to the window and heaving it open. Looking back, he nodded. "I'll make ma way back to Amnesty. Be seeing ya."


	20. Chapter 20

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty (Past Times Haunt the Present)

Heyes eased himself onto the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb Mary. He was planning to clop (the term he'd adopted to describe his current gait) his way to the chair.

"Where are you going?"

Shoulders slumped, Heyes sat on the edge of the bed.

"I was trying not to wake you," he sighed.

"I know that but that's not what I asked."

"I can't sleep, Mary. I'm going to sit on the chair for a while."

Behind him, he felt Mary sit up. She rubbed his shoulder. They hadn't heard anything from Longwater and Heyes was fretting. Usually he would be pacing up and down but he was unable to do that at this time. Which made him fret even more. Before going to bed, he had sent John Beecher into town to see if Lom had heard anything but no, nothing.

"Jed'll be alright Josh. He has Wheat and Paul to look after him."

"Yes I know."

"And I've heard Sheriff Gunnison is a good man. He'll be there. Not to mention Marshall Gruber."

Heyes sighed.

"Mary go back to sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'll struggle over there."

"No," Mary said, firmly. "Light the lamp and then get back into bed. We'll talk for a while." In emphasis, she arranged the pillows against the headboard. "Come on."

With a sigh, Heyes lit the lamp but remained sitting on the edge of the bed. He only looked round when Mary touched his arm. She gripped his shoulders and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"There's nothing you can do."

"I know," he agreed sadly. "I hate not knowing. I feel so helpless." He shook his head. "Dang plaster everywhere! It's getting me down. I should BE there with him. Helping."

"You have helped him as much as you can. You figured it all out. You planned what to do about it."

"I didn't plan a gunman showing up," he said, bitterly.

"No but Jed knew there was a possibility he might. And we don't know that he has. If Anne hadn't got here in time and warned him, then he'd be walking in blind. Surely, this way Jed can plan around him. If he does turn up."

"Ye-ah suppose so."

"Come back into bed. You're getting cold."

With a heavy sigh, Heyes heaved his plastered limbs back into bed. He winced.

"Hurt?"

"Ache. Been a long day."

Not to mention eventful. The news Anne and Rose brought was one thing. Getting Heyes back upstairs was another. Before they had left for Longwater, the Kid and Paul had joined hands to make a seat and had carried Heyes back up, despite his protests that he could manage. It was a terrifying journey. He had to sit facing behind them so that his foot didn't jolt against the stairs. All he could see was the floor of the hall getting further and further away as the three of them wobbled their way to the landing. They were all glad when they reached the top and could put Heyes down. Limping back to his bedroom he questioned the wisdom of going downstairs in the first place. He'd think of a better way of tackling the stairs. Mary had suggested shuffling up and down on his bottom like the children did sometimes. He had given her the look at that point. Now he conceded it might have merit and he'd consider it. Providing no one was around to see him, of course.

Mary snuggled up and he raised his left arm so she could move underneath. He kissed the top of her head.

"I know I've said this before but thank you for being my wife and taking care of me the last few weeks."

Mary smiled and patted his chest. Her fingers found the gap in the unbuttoned neck of his nightshirt and smoothing the hair she found there.

"I made vows remember? In sickness and in health?"

"I thought that meant a cold!" he chuckled.

They both gave contended sighs.

"Can I ask you something? About your former life?"

Heyes hesitated. "What do you want to know?" he asked, guarded.

"How did you meet Anne?"

Heyes closed his eyes and licked his lips. Yep, he knew it would come up. He took a deep breath. "Soapy was running a con and I helped him out. Anne was involved."

"So you worked together?"

Another deep breath and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Not exactly. Why d'you want to know?"

"I'm just curious. I don't remember reading about her in any of your books."

"That's because I didn't write about her in any of my books."

"Why not?"

"Because I only wrote about my outlaw life and about trying for amnesty. Anne doesn't figure in either."

"But you said earlier that Anne and her husband, Lionel … ."

"Linnaeus."

"Linnaeus were part of your network of informants."

"Yes and they were."

"So … ."

"I mentioned the network but didn't go into details," he said, quickly. "Best for them."

"But you change names."

He sighed, wanting this conversation to end. "Still no reason to go into too much detail."

The snuggling pair were silent. Heyes waiting, in the vain hope this conversation was over. He would be disappointed, Mary was thinking of her next question.

"Were you lovers?"

There it was.

"Yes," Heyes admitted, quietly. He took a deep breath. "Briefly."

Mary had already suspected that Anne and Heyes had history. She wasn't sure how she felt now that he had confirmed it. Of course, she knew there had been women he had been intimate with before their marriage but she had never met any of them. As far as she knew.

Mary raised her head to look at him.

"What happened?" she asked, quietly, feeling hurt. There was no reason why she should be but she felt suddenly threatened by this woman. Joshua was married to her and he had never given her any reason not to trust him. Plenty of women had flirted with him over the years but he never gave them any encouragement. Perhaps it was because Anne had known him before she had. When he had a different life.

"She met Linnaeus."

"Were you upset?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Heyes scowled. "Mary you're beginning to sound like Susan!"

Mary put her head back on his shoulder. "She IS my daughter. Where do you think she gets it from?"

Heyes smiled in agreement and pressed a kiss on the top of Mary's head. He sighed. "I wasn't upset because Linnaeus could give Anne something I didn't want at the time."

"What?"

"A future together, a home, a family. I was an outlaw. I couldn't give her any of those things. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't."

"Did you love her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Heyes sighed. "I met Anne when I helped Soapy out with a con he was running."

"Yes you said." She didn't tell him Anne had said the same thing.

Heyes licked his lips. "Anne was the mark."

Mary raised her head again.

"Anne was the mark!" She hadn't expected that.

"Yes."

"Why was she the mark?"

"I don't remember now. It's a long time ago," he said, irritably.

Mary knew he did remember but didn't want to tell her. Even worse, Heyes knew she knew. They were at an impasse. It was Heyes, who looked away first. He sighed. "I was helping Soapy out and doing what he told me. It kinda went wrong."

"What happened?"

Heyes gave another deep sigh. Mary could be like a dog with a bone sometimes. "Anne figured it out and turned the tables on us." He rolled his eyes. "That's when Soapy offered her a job in his operation."

"So you only went with Anne because it was part of your … JOB?" Mary was wide-eyed. "Did you OFTEN have to be a lothario?"

"No," he denied quickly, and then sighed. "Sometimes." Another sigh and a wince. "No," he said, more firmly. "That makes it sound sordid and this wasn't." He shook his head in irritation.

"So you were attracted to her?"

Heyes licked his lips. "Yes," he forced out, not happy with this conversation. "I think it was mutual," he added, hoping that would make it sound more acceptable. He looked away and then looked back suddenly. "Why all the questions about Anne? Why's it so important?" Then a thought struck him. "Are you … jealous?" He widened his eyes at her.

"No," Mary denied, firmly.

Heyes grinned. "You are! You're jealous!" Then he sobered. "Mary you've no need to be. I'm married to you. I love being married to you." He rubbed his cheek across the top of head. "I'm with you for ever and very happy. I haven't looked at another woman in that way for years. You know that. Anne was a few weeks a very long time ago when I was a different man."

Mary nodded and sighed. "I know. I'm just being silly. I suppose it's because I've never met anyone but Soapy and Wheat from your past life. And that funny little man that came with Wheat in the middle of the night that time."

"Yeah, Kyle."

Silence. Was the interrogation over?

"Oh and that Clementine Hail woman." Mary's head came up quickly and suddenly, nearly knocking into his chin. "She wasn't …?"

"No." Heyes was firm. "I explained about Clementine at the time."

"Yes you did." Mary put her head back. "I suppose I'm feeling a little unloved … . As you've been … out of action … for a while."

"Out of action? What do you mean … ah!"

She was rubbing his stomach the way she knew he liked. She sighed contentedly.

Heyes closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He sighed as well. Suddenly his eyes flew open.

"Mary!" he exclaimed, when her hand had slid lower. Then he gave a deep, husky chuckle.

ASJASJASJASJ

Sometime later, the main bedroom of Amnesty was bathed in a post-lovemaking glow. Their intimacy had been awkward but ultimately successfully. Afterwards, snuggling, they had fallen asleep when an urgent banging on the front door, rudely awaken them.

"Sheesh! Who's that?" Heyes started, putting his hand to his forehead. He had been in a deep asleep.

"It sounds important," said Mary, sitting up and reaching for her robe on the bottom of the bed. Clutching the neckline together, she went over and pulled the sash window up.

"Who's there?" she demanded.

In the moonlight, a man appeared from underneath the portico. He touched his hat.

"Sorry to wake ya ma'am."

It was Wheat. Who else would it be at that time of night?

"Is Heyes awake?"

"He is now!" Heyes yelled.

"Shhh! You'll wake the children," Mary hissed back at her husband.

Her warning was unnecessary because at that moment they heard, "Who's making all that noise?" Susan demanded, from the landing.

Heyes tossed his hand in the air and rolled his eyes.

"Just stay there Wheat. I'll come down and open the door," Mary said to their nocturnal visitor.

"Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am."

Mary closed the window and turned back. Before she could get to the door, she caught the look on Heyes' face. "What?" she asked, hands on hips, which made her robe gape at the neck.

Heyes pursed his lips. "Might wanna think about putting your nightdress back on," he said, quietly.

"Perhaps you're right," Mary conceded, when she realised why he was saying that and threw off her robe to stand naked.

Heyes smiled appreciatively.

"I expect Wheat has news," she said, trying to distract him as she retrieved her nightdress from where Heyes had thrown it earlier.

"Mmmm," his smile became wider.

"Is someone going to answer the door?" Susan called. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Yes! I'm coming!" Mary said, disappearing into her nightdress.

A few moments, now respectably clad, she threw open the door to confront her daughter.

"Back to bed, young lady. You've school in the morning."

"How can I sleep with all this commotion?" the small girl asked.

"Well just try." Mary turned Susan round and set her off in the direction of her bedroom.

"Who's at the door?" asked a sleepy Harry, coming out of his room.

Mary groaned. "Back to bed. It's just Wheat. I'm going to let him in and then we're ALL going to bed."

"Wheat! Haven't seen Wheat in days. Where's he been?" Harry asked, excitedly. "Can I stay up and say hi?"

"No!"

"Wheat's back?" Billy asked, coming out of his room.

"Yes now … ." Mary groaned as Wheat banged on the door again. "Just a moment! I'm coming!" She stomped downstairs leaving the three children peering through the balustrade.

"It's Wheat!" Billy jumped up and down as his mother let that man in.

"Yea! It is Wheat!" Harry joined in.

The big man climbed the stairs to the landing, feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed by the excited reaction of the children.

"Hey! You's three outta be in bed."

"Very observant," Mary muttered, beside him.

In the bedroom, Heyes was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking for his discarded nightshirt.

"Wheat! You're back!" Billy shrieked and wrapped his arms round Wheat's leg.

Heyes smiled at the small boy's excitement. Billy was usually such a serious boy.

"Yeah, Wheat where've you been? We've missed you," Harry said.

"What time do you call this? Don't you know that SOME of us have school in the morning!" huffed a small girl with folded arms.

Heyes chuckled as he got his arms in the nightshirt then grimaced. He hated the wretched thing and was longing for the day when he didn't have to wear it in bed anymore. It rose up and twisted around his hips. Several times, he had woken Mary so she could help untangle him. Only to be met with thinly disguised laughter. On the other hand, his disgruntled face had received a kiss so perhaps it wasn't all bad. No! No! He shook his head in disgust at thinking such things. It was gonna be burnt at the earliest opportunity.

"That's enough now. Leave Wheat alone." Mary pulled Billy away and held his hand firmly. "Back to bed now please."

"Wheat, you're wearing your gun! Can I see?" Harry asked, eagerly.

"NO!" Mary pulled him back and gave Wheat a glare of disapproval. He wrinkled his nose in apology. "Come on. Bed. I'll tuck you in." Mary led the boys away, leaving Wheat to confront a glowering Susan.

"So?"

"Well now Little Missy I's come to see ya Pappy. Been doing somethin' for him an' I reckon he'll wanna know right away how it went."

"Mama put Pappy to bed early 'cos he's been up all day and he's very tired. I don't think he's awake."

"Oh yes I am!" said a disembodied voice from the bedroom. "Wheat get in here!" Then pre-empting the little girl's question. "Susan, go to bed. It's late. You can see Wheat tomorrow."

"Why are you picking on ME? The boys are up as well!" Susan protested.

"I MEAN all of you. Now get to bed!"

"Yes, Pappy," Susan said, reluctantly, turning away.

Wheat walked into the bedroom as Heyes struggled back into bed.

"I's sorry I woke everyone. Figgured ya wanna know what went down up at Longwater," Wheat said, in apology.

"Yeah I do."

"Can I have some hot milk, Mama?" they heard Billy ask.

"No."

"How about cocoa?" Harry suggested.

"No-O!"

"Did someone say cocoa? I'll have some," Susan said, putting in her order.

Heyes winced. "Shut the door," he mouthed at Wheat who did. Heyes felt a moment of guilt for leaving Mary to cope with the children alone but Wheat had news he needed to hear. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead as Wheat took a seat. "Hope you've got good news?"

"Yeah sorta."

"What sort of answer's that?"

"Well it's like this." Wheat proceeded to tell Heyes all that happened at Longwater. He listened impassively until Wheat told him about the gunfight. Then Heyes sat up wide-eyed.

"Is the Kid alright?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah, yeah, took a bullet through the shoulder … ."

"WHAT?"

"It's a through and through Heyes. He'll be alright. That va-lay of his is lookin' after him."

"And you couldna LED with this?"

Wheat shrugged. "Reckon he got hurt worse a time or two afore. Don't reckon this is much more'n a scratch in comparison."

"So … ." Heyes rolled his eyes. "Oh Sheesh! So what happened? Is Bloodstone under arrest?"

"Yeah, yeah. Tucked up safe 'n' sound in Longwater's jail by now I reckon." Wheat chortled.

Heyes grunted.

"That va-lay," Wheat chortled again. "Reckon he saved the day right enough. The Kid sure has got one fast thinkin' partner these days. Er … ." He saw the look Heyes gave him. "I mean agin. Yeah that's what I mean, agin."

"Wheat," Heyes growled. "What happened?"

Wheat settled himself more comfortably in the chair and continued with the story. When he got to the bit about curare, Heyes chuckled.

"That mean somethin' to ya?"

"Yes. Paul helped me with part of the research I'm doing for my next book. Poison came up." Heyes pulled a lop-sided face. "Guess it helped in more ways than one."

Wheat nodded. "Yeah Heyes I reckon it did. Bamboozled Bloodstone and Didcot enough for Gunnison and me's to get the drop on 'em."

Heyes nodded. "Well done, Wheat. Sounds like it was a good night's work." Heyes stifled a yawn as the door opened.

Mary came in, shut it behind her and leant against it heavily.

"They gone down again?" Heyes asked.

"Yes. Finally."

She pushed away from the door, giving Wheat a hard look. Wheat took the hint and got up.

"Well I's done finished telling Heyes what happened up at Longwater tonight. Best be getting back down to the stables. Already woke John up."

Not to mention waking US up, thought Mary. Wheat sidled to the door, aware of Mary's displeased look.

"Quietly, please."

"Yes ma'am. Sees ya."

Wheat fled.

Mary turned back to her husband with a raised eyebrow.

"The Kid took a bullet through the shoulder but it sounds like he'll be alright. Bloodstone's under arrest." He smiled, deviously. "Say Mary?" He got her attention. "Will you go down and lock the door behind Wheat please?" Then when he saw the look, she gave him. She had just taken her robe off. "Well I can't, can I?"

ASJASJASJASJ

"What's that?" Heyes asked Billy, pointing at picture in a book.

Heyes and the boys were reading a book in the lounge, Billy tucked cosily beside him, helping him read. Harry was busy drawing in pencil on his father's plaster-coated foot, which rested on the pouffe. Heyes had given up telling Harry not to draw on either of his plastered limbs but he wasn't always fast enough to move away. Harry had a captive easel and Heyes' plaster casts now sported all manner of animals, trains and unidentifiable shapes and designs.

The little boy studied the picture in the book for a moment. "A lion," Billy declared, with a grin.

"Yep. And where do lions live?"

Billy looked uncertain. Heyes looked to his brother. "Harry do you know?"

The elder boy looked round and shrugged. "Don't care. Unless they live HERE," he said, and went back to his latest masterpiece.

Heyes smacked his lips and looked at Billy. "Any ideas?"

"Not here?" Billy said, uncertain.

Heyes smiled. "No. Well … ." The type of lion depicted in the book didn't but there was the cougar. That was a type of lion. Should he say that to Billy?

He was saved from his dilemma by sounds of a buggy drawing up outside.

"Ah!" He was expecting the Kid and Cowdry back. They should have been back two days ago. The Kid had sent a very brief telegram saying there was a delay. No explanation. The two messages Heyes had sent to Lom had yielded no further information. Heyes hoped this was the Kid back, as the suspense was killing him.

"I'll see who it is," yelled Harry, dashing into the hall.

"Me too!" piped Billy, worming off the sofa and running after him.

Heyes smiled and closed the book, setting it to one side, to await the visitors. He didn't have long to wait.

"Uncle Thaddeus!" Harry.

"Woa! Woa! Easy boys," the Kid said. He sounded weak and weary.

"You've got a sling like Pappy!" Billy.

"Alright Kid?" Wheat.

"Yeah. Heyes up?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's in the lounge."

"I'll bring the bags in sir." Cowdry.

"Thank you Paul."

Heyes inclined his neck as he heard footsteps approach the open front door, and then feet entering the hall. The Kid appeared in the doorway of the lounge. Heyes had prepared a broad grin of greeting but it slowly faded when he saw the Kid.

Right arm in a sling he had expected but he wasn't prepared for how pale and hollow-eyed the Kid was.

"Thaddeus!" Mary greeted, coming out of the kitchen, drying her hands. She kissed him on the cheek and looked at him in concern. "How are you? Can I get you anything?"

"I … need to speak to Heyes," the Kid said, quietly, ignoring her questions.

"Of course. He's in the lounge. I'll make sure you're not disturbed. Come along boys."

"Awh, Mama!"

"Now!" Her sharp tone brooked no arguments and the two boys trooped off after her.

Heyes watched as the Kid walked across the lounge and sat down heavily in a chair. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. Heyes knew better than to ask. The Kid obviously had something difficult to tell him but he'd do it in his own time. Heyes had to be patient.

Finally, the Kid dropped his hand and sighed.

"Dandy's dead," he said, softly.

Heyes shifted uncomfortably. Now he knew what the Kid was dealing with.

"Wheat said you didn't have a choice but to go up against him." Heyes said, slowly.

"Yeah I did," the Kid cut him off. He bounced his fingers on the arm of chair. "Yeah, Heyes I had a lot of choices," he said, bitterly. "An' I picked the wrong one."

Heyes licked his lips. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't there. He hadn't seen what had gone down. He only knew what Wheat had told him. Wheat wasn't known for his accurate and in-depth descriptions of events.

"D'you want to tell me?"

The Kid shook his head, at odds with what he said next. "Yeah, I do. I need to tell someone. It's been rolling round in my head since it happened." He swallowed hard and looked at the ceiling. "I hit him in the belly, Heyes." He shook his head. "I didn't get a … I wasn't able to … . Sheesh!" The Kid rubbed his forehead, face contorted in pain.

Heyes felt helpless and embarrassed that he was witnessing the Kid's distress. Nothing he could do about it, except be there for him. Getting up was difficult but he managed, fumbled for his crutch and clopped his way over. Left hand on left shoulder and shook gently.

"He was a gunman, Kid. He knew the risks."

"I didn't havta do it, Heyes," the Kid gasped. "I coulda tried … ." He shook his head. "I didn't havta … ." He swallowed hard. "He shouldna died."

"He was a killer, Kid. If he were caught, he would hang. He knew it and you knew it."

"Yeah but then he wouldn't have died by my hand. Heyes!" The Kid swallowed hard. "He didn't die straight away. The Doc got him stable enough to move to his house. The next morning I got a message asking me to come. When I got there the Doc said, Dandy had been asking for me. He was dying Heyes and he knew it. Wanted to see me before he went." He paused. D'ya know who he was?" The Kid looked wide-eyed at Heyes.

"Edward Dandy?"

"No!" The Kid shook his head, furiously. "No, Heyes. That wasn't his name." His voice shuddered. "He told me his name before he died." He looked up at Heyes, eyes moist. "It was … ." His voice caught. "It was Thomas Cunningham."

Heyes frowned. For a moment, he was unsure what the Kid was getting at.

"TOMMY Cunningham," the Kid confirmed.

"No!"

Heyes dropping his crutch with a clatter, staggered back, landing heavily on the pouffe.

"But … he was a child!" Heyes shook his head. "He couldn't be old enough yet."

The Kid shook his head. "He was a killer, Heyes. It ages ya. An' he lived a hard life. He grew up quick."

"No, Kid. You must be mistaken. It's a common enough name … ."

The Kid shook his head. "No, Heyes. There's no mistake. His mother took them back East but he couldn't settle. He ran away. Came back West." He swallowed hard. "He told me 'bout seeing me practising my fast draw that time. Remember? You were going through the books?"

Heyes nodded. This was all ringing true and he didn't trust himself to speak.

"Stuck with him. Despite what I told him 'bout the dangers of using guns." The Kid sighed and looked away.

Heyes put his head down as he absorbed what he'd heard.

"I sat with him all day yesterday until ... . He drifted in and out. In his more lucid moments, he talked. 'Bout how he'd practiced and practiced. He wanted to be the best. 'Bout his ma and sister. How he'da liked to see them again." The Kid licked his lips. "I held his hand when he died, Heyes."

"You made your peace with him, Kid," Heyes said, quietly.

Heyes put his head down. He didn't want to see the Kid so upset.

It was a few minutes before the Kid could compose himself enough to speak.

"How many others, Heyes?" Heyes looked up. "How many kids saw me gun down Bilston? How many kids saw me shot Briggs? How many kids saw me just draw? How many kids thought, I wanna do that, be like that … ?" He tailed off, swallowed and shook his head.

"Kid, … ."

"I wanna go home Heyes. Back East. Away from here. Where there's nothing to remind me." He paused. "I wanna see my boys. Tell 'em … . Jus' hold 'em … ."

Heyes nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn't imagine how the Kid felt. The knowledge that Dandy had been Tommy Cunningham, the son of a woman they had helped early in their quest for amnesty, had shaken him too.

"How often do you wear your gun these days?" the Kid asked, suddenly.

Heyes shook his head. "Not very often. Don't need to." He paused. "There's rarely a reason for me to wear it anymore." He paused. "And I've never worn it in front of the kids. I keep it locked away. Where they can't accidently find it."

"Yeah," the Kid nodded. "That's what I want." He took a deep breath. "So I've decided, Heyes," he said, quietly. "I ain't gonna wear my gun again. Ever." He looked away, biting his lip. "That was the last time." He took a deep breath. "The last time I will pull a gun on another human being. The last time I … hurt another human being. The last time I … kill … another human being." He rubbed his forehead to hide his tear-glazed eyes.

Heyes pursed his lips. He had to say something. Now wasn't the time for a smart alec comment. But what?

"I think … that's a good decision, Kid."

"Glad you approve," the Kid said, icily, and then false smiled at him. He scrubbed at his eyes and then dropped his hand on to his thigh. "Awh, maudlin' won't help will it? It's done. It's over. Can't change it now. In the past." He frowned and put his hand to his shoulder. "I'll always have a reminder." He sighed. "Guess I'll jus' have to live with it."

"We've both done things in our lives that we've regretted," Heyes said.

"Yeah and for me this is jus' one more of 'em."

"You look tired, Kid. Why don't you go up and get some sleep?"

The Kid's hand still covered his injured shoulder. "The doc up at Longwater offered me laudanum but I refused. I wanted to feel the pain."

Heyes pursed his lips. "You can't go on forever like that Kid. You need to get some sleep, otherwise it won't heal." The Kid nodded. "I've still got some laudanum if you want it."

The Kid raised his head and looked at Heyes. "Yeah, you're right." He frowned. "Of course, you're right," he said, more firmly. "I've gotta get over this. I owe it to Caroline and the boys don't I?"

Heyes nodded. "They want you back, Kid."

The Kid smiled faintly and nodded. Wearily he got up and put his hand on Heyes' shoulder. "Thanks Heyes. Thanks for listenin'."


	21. Chapter 21

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty One (Formula)

Kid sat on the back porch, enjoying the warm sun. He was continuing his recuperation by dozing under his hat. After getting back from Longwater, with a little help from some laudanum, he had slept soundly until the next morning. He had mooched aimlessly about the house that day, doing odd jobs, played with the boys and Heyes had found him in his study, reading. After another good sleep, today he was feeling better.

Heyes sat next to him, a newspaper spread over the table in front of him. He hadn't sat out much since he was well enough so although it wasn't cold, Mary had insisted on draping a blanket around his shoulders. He had suffered her fussing in silence, ignoring the Kid's smirk at his disgusted face, and shrugged the blanket off once Mary had gone. Two hours later, he'd decided that it WAS chilly in the shade and the blanket was back round him.

The rustle of the newspaper as Heyes turned the pages eventually filtered into the Kid's subconscious and woke him.

He sat up straighter, pushing his hat back. He blinked awake, his eyes coming to rest on the children, playing on the lawn in front of them. He frowned. He couldn't make out what they were doing. Susan was leading the boys about the lawn and all three were prancing around in a stiff and jerky way, arms in the air.

"Heyes?"

"Mmmm?"

"What are your kids doing?"

Heyes looked up.

"Oh, being Pinocchio* I think." He returned to his paper unconcerned.

"Pinocchio?"

"Yes. It's a children's story. Your boys are probably too young for it yet. It's about a marionette, a puppet that's manipulated by wires, who wants to be a REAL boy. Y'know, kinda like you did after reading all those dime novels about us." Heyes kept his head down to hide his smile, well aware of the evil look coming his way.

The Kid grunted.

"Kid Curry always got the girl that's why."

"Yeah after you'd caused her to faint and had to pick her up off the floor."

"At least I GOT the girl. Don't remember the girl EVER going for that other fella," he murmured.

Heyes' smile turned to a frown at the dig. Yet he didn't mind too much. It felt good to josh around with the Kid again. A sure sign that the Kid was coming out of the despondent mood he had been in since his return from Longwater.

Then before either could say anymore, they heard a buggy pulling up at the front of the house.

"Must be Cowdry back from visiting Rose," the Kid said, settling down to snooze some more.

Heyes nodded in agreement. "How's that going? Is it serious?"

The Kid shrugged. "Dunno, but it seems to be."

It was Cowdry but he wasn't alone. Lom and Gruber had caught up with him along the road and had kept company for the rest of the way.

"Hallo, hallo," greeted Lom, as he appeared on the porch. "How ya doing, Kid?" His hand rested on the Kid's good shoulder. This was the first time he had been out to Amnesty since the Kid had returned from Longwater.

"Hey, Lom. I'm okay. Good to see ya." He nodded to Gruber.

They dispensed with the formalities as neither seated man could shake hands. Heyes gestured to the chairs on the other side of the table as he folded his newspaper awkwardly.

"I'll make some coffee!" Came Mary's voice from inside.

"I'll help," said Cowdry and took himself off with a nod.

"Thanks." Heyes turned to the two unexpected visitors. "So, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

Lom and Gruber swopped looks. Lom went first.

"We have news," he said.

"About Bloodstone?" the Kid asked.

"Should we go to my study?" Heyes asked, his eyes flicking to the children who had stopped playing. They were looking unsure whether they ought to come over and say hallo. Sheriff Lom only came socially with Mrs Lom and family.

Lom gathered what he was meaning. "Ye-ah," he said, levering himself out of the chair he had settled in a moment before.

Some minutes later, the men assembled in Heyes' study. Cowdry joined them a short while later, carrying a tray with coffee and cups. He was about to go when Gruber called him back.

"This concerns you, Mr Cowdry. Please stay."

Cowdry glanced at the Kid for confirmation.

"Take a seat, Paul."

Once everyone had settled, Gruber began.

"Bloodstone has been transferred to the federal prison in Cheyenne. Carl Didcot and the Bulmer brothers are there as well."

"Good," Heyes and the Kid said together.

"It's going to take a while to come to trial. There's a lot of paperwork to go through. Not just because of this incident but there are others as well. The investigators keep coming across new ones."

"I bet. It sounds as though Bloodstone was at this a long time," Heyes said, sipping his coffee.

"Yes he was." Gruber paused. "Mr Curry, Mr Cowdry, you will of course be asked to give evidence," Gruber said.

The Kid nodded. "Yeah I figured," he said, reluctantly. "Any idea how long? Time's getting on. I'd kinda like to get back to Boston soon."

Gruber considered. "I don't know for sure but I'm told there will be a preliminary hearing next month. Under the circumstances, it's possible you can give your testimony then. I'll make enquiries."

"Thank you." The Kid paused. "How's he holding up?"

Gruber knew he meant Bloodstone. "Not too well. He's being watched round the clock."

They all knew what that meant. Bloodstone was a suicide risk. The realisation that their actions had raised that possibility was an uncomfortable one. The room was silent as they pondered on it.

"And Jeremiah? How's he?" Heyes asked.

Gruber nodded. "Healing," he smiled, in the Kid's direction. "Technically he hadn't done much wrong so any charges that might have resulted have been dismissed. He's prepared to give evidence against Bloodstone. So that swayed it I think."

"Ooh, I bet that's gone down well in his house. Isn't his wife Bloodstone's sister?" Lom asked.

Gruber rolled his eyes. "Er yes. I should imagine the atmosphere is rather difficult but she's sticking by her husband. For now."

"And the Longwater Mill?" Heyes asked.

Gruber shrugged and Heyes nodded. "Time will tell I guess." He looked up. "Will Sam Flixton have to give evidence?"

Gruber nodded. "Yes."

Heyes winced. He knew that wouldn't go down well with Sam but he also knew that he would do his duty. "Guess we always knew we couldn't really keep him out of it," he muttered.

Cowdry frowned and dug into his jacket pocket. "Talking of mills." He throw a lopsided grin when everyone looked at him. Were we, they seemed to ask. "This is Mr Flixton's formula. Not the real formula of course but his fake formula," Cowdry said, holding the slip of paper out to the Kid.

The Kid studied it for a moment. "Looks like a lot of letters and numbers to me," the Kid said, dismissively. "Could be anything."

Heyes held out his hand for the slip of paper. The Kid got up and handed it over. Heyes unfolded it and read it. He smiled, then he chuckled and then it became a full-blown laugh. The others (Kid, Lom and Gruber) looked on frowning. Only Cowdry had a knowing smile.

"Care to share, Heyes," the Kid said, figuring the laughter had gone on long enough. He had forgotten that there was one person in the room who didn't know who Heyes was.

Gruber frowned. What had Curry called Smith? Then he realised. Ah, yes of course! Why hadn't he seen it before?

Heyes held out the slip of paper. A frustrated Kid snatched the paper from his hand and looked at it. What he read still made no sense. Certainly nothing, that should cause the mirth on his partner's face.

"I don't get it," he declared, shuddered and passed it to Lom. Lom pulled a face, shook his head and passed it to Gruber. He put his finger to his lips as he studied it.

"I know a little about chemistry. Is this … ?"

"Yep. It sure is," Heyes confirmed, with a delighted grin.

"WHAT!" the Kid and Lom chorused and then looked embarrassed that they didn't know what everyone else seemed to.

"It's really very clever, Kid. Couldn'ta thought of better myself. I'll read it to you." Heyes took the slip back from Gruber. "C6H1206(S) + 602(g) - → 6C02(g) + 6H20(g)."

Lom and the Kid glazed over.

"It's the formula for an explosion in a custard pie factory sir," Cowdry explained but not explaining anything.

"Or to put it more correctly, it is the chemical equation for the oxidisation of glucose in the custard powder," Heyes clarified, with a look to Cowdry, who nodded in acknowledgement of the clearer explanation.

The Kid glared at them hard. The two men could have been brothers, separated at birth. Then sighed and shook his head. "How d'ya KNOW these things?!" He stomped away, feeling his hurt shoulder. He dropped into a wingback chair in disgust.

Heyes and Cowdry swapped grins.

"Awh, Kid, don't feel too bad. Sam had to come up with something that would fool Jeremiah. He has to know some chemistry so Sam was taking a risk using this." Heyes grinned. He pursed his lips. "But then again perhaps Sam was trying to warn him."

"Yes sir that's what I thought. So not knowing Mr Flixton's intentions exactly, I didn't think I could give it to Mr Curry," Cowdry said.

Heyes gave him a tight-lipped nod. "But I have to say … ." He chuckled again. "It's very clever."

The Kid didn't look as though he was mollified in anyway.

Lom smiled and got up. Knowing Heyes and Curry as well as he did, the pair were likely to start bickering. He didn't want to be around if they did. "Come on Marshall, let's leave these good folks."

The Kid got up as well. "I'll er see ya out."

After the door closed, Heyes looked at Cowdry, who although on his feet was hesitating.

"Something I can help you with Paul?"

"Er yes sir. Perhaps."

"Take a seat." He nodded to the chair the Kid had just vacated.

"No sir. Thank you sir but I'd prefer to stand. Um … ."

Heyes leant forward and smiled. "Paul, whatever it is, I won't bite."

"No sir I know that. 'Least I hope not. Um … ." Cowdry absently sat on the pouffe. "It's about Rose sir."

Heyes picked up his coffee and pulled a face. It was cold. "Rose?" He put the cup down quickly and sighed. He could really do with another cup but he knew the pot was empty. When he looked up, he smiled. He felt quite flattered. So Paul was asking him for advice on women, was he? Not that he was surprised. After all, he had written a little romance into his book and Paul HAD complimented him on its realism.

"I was thinking about your book sir." His eyes strayed to the neat pile of paper on the desk, sitting next to the notebook pages and other assorted scrapes of paper containing the scribbled second half of the manuscript.

"Oh," Heyes' face fell. That wasn't the turn he thought this conversation should be taking.

"Well, I was just wondering … . If you would like some professional help sir. Temporarily, while you're incapacitated."

Heyes glanced at the piles on his desk and wrinkled his nose. "There is a lot to type isn't there?"

"Yes sir and Rose is trained."

"Trained?" Heyes frowned. "I thought she was a waitress?"

"Yes sir she is. Was." He shook his head. "Not really sir." Cowdry sighed.

Heyes raised his eyebrows in question.

"Rose was only waitressing while she was looking for a position sir. She graduated last month, second in her class, from secretarial college."

"Ah!"

"Her speeds are impressive sir. She can type at sixty words per minute."

Heyes nodded. That was impressive. Certainly faster than his two fingered speed. When he had two fingers available of course.

"And her shorthand sir. Seventy words a minute. Not the fastest but that will come … ."

"Paul."

"You could dictate sir."

"Paul."

"Even if she only clears the backlog sir. I'm sure … ."

"Cowdry!" Heyes pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've convinced me. Have her come see me."

Cowdry grinned. "Yes sir. Thank you sir."

ASJASJASJASJ

Rose presented herself, front and centre, in Heyes' study the next day. He was sitting on the chaise lounge and had already apologised for not getting up.

"Sit down Rose," Heyes said to the smartly turned out and rather nervous young woman in front of him. "Please. You don't want me to get a crick neck on top of all my other … handicaps do you?"

"No sir." Rose perched on the edge of the nearest wingback chair. Heyes looked up at Cowdry and flicked him away.

Rose looked up in alarm but Cowdry just smiled reassuringly, nodded and closed the door.

"Rose, Paul tells me that you have recently graduated from secretarial college? With speeds in typing and shorthand that are impressive."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

"Joshua. My name is Joshua, Rose," he smiled, trying to put her at ease.

Rose smiled weakly and nodded.

"Has Paul explained to you that I am in the middle of writing a book?"

"Yes sir," Rose nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes Joshua he has. From what he's told me it's quite a mystery."

Heyes smiled faintly at Rose's slip up and the speed in which she corrected herself. "Yes but it won't be unless I can get it finished." He flicked his thumb behind him to the paperwork on his desk. "I'm a little behind with the typing. Before we go any further, we should see if you can read my writing. It's not the best as I was using my left hand until Paul started to help me. Have a look see." Then he added to himself, not sure I can read all of it!

Rose got up and looked at the untidy pile of papers to the right of the typewriter. Heyes slid onto the pouffe so he could see her.

Absently Rose sat down as she studied the scraps, her brow furrowed in concentration. One particular piece she turned round and then back. Then her face lit up into a smile and she put it on the successfully deciphered pile. Heyes watched her work her way through. She stopped every now and then and read snippets in the hope he would know what a word was. Generally, he could glean what it was meant to be by the context. He stopped her when she had reached the sheets Paul had written.

"How was that?" he asked.

"A little difficult but once I got my eye in, it became easier."

Heyes beamed. "Good. Are you familiar with that sorta typewriter?" He nodded to the machine beside her.

"Yes, it's a Remington 2. I used all the popular models at College but this is by far the best. In my opinion of course."

Heyes nodded. "I think so too. It's designed for speed but my two-fingered technique doesn't do it justice I'm afraid. Would you type up one of Paul's sheets for me, please? There's paper to your right." He pulled himself back onto the chaise longue so he couldn't see her. "I won't put you off by watching. Take your time."

He picked up the book he was reading but in reality, he was listening. To paper inserted; far quicker and easily than he managed and no swearing! A couple of hesitant strokes of the keyboard, a pause for typewriter repositioning, the chair moving to a more comfortable position and then she was off, rattling away at an impressive rate. Heyes smiled. He'd have this written in no time. When the click clacking stopped, he heard the sheet removed and Rose appeared in front of him. She held the typewritten sheet and Paul's manuscript out to him.

"Would you like to check it?"

"I would thank you." He waved her down into a chair.

Rose tried not to watch as he compared. He seemed to take ages and she sat nervously twisting her fingers together. At last, he looked up and smiled, obviously pleased with the results.

"Well done, Rose. That's perfect. Paul tells me you can take dictation as well." She nodded. "Would you hand me that little green book, please?" He pointed to the bookshelves behind her.

Rose got up and fetched it. Heyes noted that she resisted the temptation to look at the title. Hmmm, she wanted this test to be blind as well. Interesting. He stored that away.

"Thanks." He opened the book seemingly at random but he had secretly prepared this page. "Somewhere on the desk there is a notepad and pencil. Sharpen it if you need to. Then come and sit yourself down on the pouffe."

Rose nodded and went off to do that. With her out of sight, Heyes slipped a folded sheet of paper from the top pocket of his shirt. It had taken him ages, one fingered, to type a small passage of related but not in the book narrative. This he now secreted in the book and held it so she wouldn't see.

When Rose was back and seated on the pouffe, notepad and pencil at the ready, he smiled at her again, both dimples fully displayed.

"Comfy?"

Rose blushed, smiled and nodded.

"Okay let's start." Heyes began to read a passage from the book at normal speaking speed. Rose scribbled away. He glanced at her. She didn't look too fazed and appeared to be keeping up. The book passage read, he carried on with the alternative passage he'd written. Rose finished a beat behind him with a period and smiled.

"Did you know that passage, Rose?"

"No."

Heyes flicked to the cover and the embossed lettering on the front. "Well I can tell you it is from Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Page one hundred and two to be exact. It's a particular favourite of Mr Curry's." He paused. "Now I'm not gonna pretend that I can read shorthand Rose so er … would you type it up for me, please?"

Rose nodded. "Of course."

A few minutes later, she had finished and Heyes was once again comparing her work. Rose was looking anxious again. Heyes looked up and smiled.

"Don't look so worried, Rose. You've got the job if you want it."

Rose sighed in relief and smiled. "Thank you. Yes I would."

"Okay, in that case I'm prepared to offer you … ." He considered. "Eight dollars a week to include a room in town. No point in you coming all the way from Cheyenne every day."

Rose beamed. That was much more than she expected. "Thank you. That's very generous. I accept."

"Well I dunno how long this will last Rose," he cautioned. "Could just be a few weeks."

Rose nodded. "I understand. At least I'll have something to put on my resumè. It's looking a little blank at the moment."

Heyes smiled. "Well we all have to start somewhere and no doubt I will be able to give you a good reference at the end." He licked his lips and hesitated. "However, before we finalise things, there's something you should know." Heyes sat up on the chase lounge and threw his legs over the side. "This is kinda important and I'll understand if you wanna change your mind and say no."

Rose frowned. There was no reason why she would say no to a job, any job, right now. Unless of course if it was something unwholesome or illegal. Mr Smith wasn't asking her to do any such thing.

"What I'm gonna tell you Rose is a secret and I want your promise that you won't tell anyone. Even if the answer is no."

Rose hesitated. What could it be? He looked very serious. She needed this job. It sounded interesting and she wanted it. She nodded slowly.

"Okay. Well d'you remember the conversation we had when you came with Anne Godfrey that first time?" Rose nodded. "We revealed to you that Paul's employer, Mr Curry, was known in the past as Kid Curry?"

"Yes."

"Well Kid Curry had a partner." Heyes licked his lips. "His name is Hannibal Heyes." He paused, hoping realisation would kick in and he wouldn't have to say it. Unfortunately it didn't, so he did. "That's me."

"I really don't know much about Kid Curry. I thought he was just a character in a dime novel."

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Yes you made that clear." He took a deep breath. "So you don't know Kid Curry was an outlaw?" Rose shook her head and looked doubtful. "He used to rob banks and trains. Famous for it."

Rose shook her head again. "I had a sheltered childhood, Mr Smith."

Heyes nodded. That would account for why Rose was so sketchy on recent history. Because that's what it was. History. He wasn't sure how he felt as the realisation hit him that she had never heard of him. Relieved or disappointed?

He took a deep breath. "Kid Curry and I used to lead a gang of outlaws, called the Devil's Hole Gang. Heard of them?" Rose shook her head but seemed to sink further back into her chair, as if to put some distance between them. "The Governor of Wyoming gave us both an amnesty … oh getting on for ten years ago. We're both free men. We're not wanted anymore and we're both living productive and law abiding lives now." He put his head down and swallowed. "While Mr Curry can live openly as himself in Boston, I live here under the name of Joshua Smith. My wife knows who I was but very few folks in town do. I want to keep it that way." He paused. "At least for now. There'll come a time when I can 'fess up but I'm not there yet. And I don't want my hand forced." He looked at her hard. "Do you understand me, Rose?"

"Yes," she said, in a small voice.

"So, given what I've just told you, do you think you can still work for me?"

Rose seemed to take ages to make a decision. It suddenly occurred to him that her answer was important and he was nervous as he waited.

Finally, she nodded. Heyes smiled in relief. "Good, then we have a deal. Shall we start on Monday?"

Rose smiled and nodded. "That will give me time to tell my parents and find somewhere to stay in town." She gathered her things and got up.

"Yep." Heyes pulled himself back onto the chaise lounge. "Say Rose?"

She looked back.

"None of my business I know but how's things with Paul?"

She blushed. "They're … progressing."

Heyes smiled knowingly. "Good."

After Rose had gone, the Kid returned.

"Paul told me why she was here. Did you take her on?" he whispered, as he closed the door. Cowdry and Rose were in the hall.

"Yep. She's very good. Take a look." He indicated the typewritten sheets on the desk.

The Kid crossed and studied them. "Hmm, very neat. Wish my typewriters were half this good."

"Kid, if things work out between her and Paul, she just might be coming back to Boston with you," Heyes grinned.

"What makes you think that?"

Heyes looked smug. "Kid, there's a formula for everything. Me giving her a job is just part of the equation!"

The Kid looked at him with a shudder.

*Pinocchio – although written in 1883, it wasn't translated into English until 1904, a little later than this is set but hey, we all know Heyes was prescient!


	22. Chapter 22

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty Two (Hardware Store)

"How does that feel?" Ben asked.

He had spent the afternoon attending to Heyes' plastering. First, he had trimmed the plaster on Heyes' arm so he could move his elbow and fingers more easily, leaving just the plaster covering his forearm. Heyes was looking a lot happier and became even more so when Ben removed the plaster entirely from Heyes' foot.

"Light. Like my foot will float away," he chuckled.

"It looks fine. Any pain? Can you wriggle your toes for me?"

Toes wriggled. "Feels stiff."

"To be expected."

"Owh!"

Ben had gently pushed on Heyes' toes, without warning.

"Your foot will feel stiff for a few days. Shall we try putting your weight on it?"

"Yes please," said Heyes, eagerly. This was a significant day in his recovery and he wanted to get on with it.

"Okay, get your crutch and put your arm round my shoulders." Ben paused. "Don't look at me like that. I don't want you to rush this. We'll take it slowly."

Heyes rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Whatever you say Doc."

"Now I don't want you put your weight on it straight away. Just put your heel on the floor like you were doing."

Crutch under one arm and the other around Ben, Heyes slowly stood up from the bed.

"Good. Now I want you to slowly, lower your foot. SLOWLY! Yes, it will hurt a bit. Your foot was held in one position for weeks. That's why we're doing this SLOWLY."

Heyes grunted.

"Okay?" Ben was looking with concern at his patient.

"Yep," Heyes gasped.

"Now keep your foot on the floor and tell me how it feels."

Heyes screwed up his face. "Um, it hurts but it's not too bad."

"Okay. Now put your weight on it."

Heyes took a deep breath as he did so. This was hurting more than he thought. He supposed it had been wishful thinking that once the plaster was off he would be able to walk normally straight away.

"Now take a step as you would normally, rolling the foot onto the toes and lift up."

"Sheesh, Ben, you don't want much do you?" Heyes gasped. He hissed as he did it, lifting his foot quickly clear on the floor.

Ben gave him a few moments. "Want to try again?"

"Yeah." Heyes knew he had to get through this. He swallowed hard and repeated the manoeuvre, letting out a grunt as he did so.

"Think you can make it to the chair?" Ben nodded at a chair a few steps away.

Heyes nodded. "Yeah."

Several minutes later Heyes sank gratefully into it. He rubbed his forehead, looking a little sick.

"Is it supposed to hurt that much?"

Ben knelt and picked up the foot. He ran his hands over the instep, causing Heyes to jerk and hiss.

"It's mended Joshua. It's just lack of use. Did it feel easier the more you walked?"

Heyes considered. "Yeah it did." He nodded. "I think you're right." He took a deep breath. "I'll just need to battle through."

"Yes but you're not to overdo it. Walking on this foot for too long can be counterproductive. Do you hear me, Joshua?"

Ben knows me far too well, glowered Heyes.

"Yes," he said, irritably.

"Good I'll tell Mary."

"There's no need to go THAT far!" Heyes spluttered.

Ben chuckled. "Think you can get back over there?" He nodded to the bed.

Heyes nodded but with some trepidation.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Josh, Ben said you were to take it easy! Not go gallivanting about!"

The next day Heyes was sitting on the pouffe in his study. Mary was standing over him, hands on hips. He'd just told her his plans to go to his new store at Salt River and he and the Kid were about to go.

"Mary I won't be walking far. The Kid is coming with me. I'm going to walk … ten steps to the buggy. He's gonna DRIVE me into town where I'll walk another ten steps … ." He caught her raised eyebrow. "Okay twelve steps." The eyebrow was still raised. "Fifteen maybe." He winced in irritation. "I dunno a few but I'll be on the train most of the time."

"It's quite a walk from the other end."

"No it's not!"

"It is for a man in your condition."

"Then … then … we'll hire a buggy!" he spat. "Give up Mary. I'm going. I need to see how the store is. It's killing me not knowing."

"I told ya, Wheat hasn't burnt it down," the Kid offered, helpfully. "Yet," he added, less than helpfully.

Mary turned round and gave him a hard look.

"Oops! Think I'll er … ." The Kid made for the study door.

"Kid!" Heyes was struggling off the pouffe and scrabbling for the walking stick he was using instead of a crutch.

The Kid looked back in resignation. Heyes was determined and if he didn't help him, he would probably end up hurting himself.

"Mary I promise I'll look after him. See that he doesn't walk too much."

Mary looked from one to the other. Then finally, she harrumphed, muttered something about stubborn men, threw her hands into the air and stomped out of the room. Heyes was tight-lipped. He didn't like Mary being out of sorts with him. There would be some making up to do later. Mmmm, that might not be TOO bad.

"Thanks Kid," he muttered, as he limped over.

"Sure 'bout this?"

"YES!"

Outside, John had brought the buggy up to the steps. Heyes negotiated them with relative ease but getting into the buggy presented a different problem. He couldn't stand on his good foot and bring his bad foot up onto the bed of the buggy. He knew that foot couldn't take the weight from that angle. Nor could he stand on his bad foot alone and put his good foot up. He had to resort to a rather undignified crawl into the buggy and then pull himself up onto the seat, landing with an embarrassed thump.

"Are ya gonna be able to get out?" the Kid asked, climbing in and taking the reins from a smirking John.

"I can get out!" came the crisp answer.

"Okay then." The Kid gave the reins a shake. "Hupp!"

ASJASJASJASJ

It was a ten-minute walk, a slow hobble in Heyes' case, to The Hardware Store from the Salt River railroad depot. He was pleased he had managed as well as he had. The Kid only had to steady him once, when a child had careered out of an alley and nearly knocked into him.

Wheat knew they were coming and he was standing nervously behind the counter when they arrived.

Heyes barely greeted him. He was everywhere, inspecting, lifting lids, pulling out drawers, moving things. Wheat wisely left him to it, hopping out of the way when needed. The Kid stood just inside the door, his arms folded and a rueful smile on his face. They swopped resigned glances as Heyes poked and prodded in every crevice and asked many questions, often fired out at speed and not waiting for an answer before the next. It was a good thirty minutes before the hobbling one ran out of steam.

"Well Heyes what's your verdict? Have we done a good job?" the Kid asked, when Heyes eventually came to light on a stool.

The Kid, Wheat and Russ from the Porterville store had spent several long days stocking the store and getting things ready. Russ had stayed on to show Wheat the ropes for a few more days. Although the Kid had visited once a week to see how things were doing, Wheat had been on his own for the last three weeks. Heyes had wanted the Kid to go more often but he refused after the first week.

"The store hasn't fallen down Heyes. Leave Wheat be. You trusted him enough to make him manager. Now let him get on."

"But … ."

"No buts Heyes. If you constantly check up on him he'll be a bundle of nerves and then he'll be no use to you."

"But … ."

"Heyes."

"Kid … ."

"No."

At that point, Heyes had resorted to pleading. "Pleeease!"

"No-O."

Heyes thrust out his bottom lip, and then ground his teeth. He wasn't going to win this one. He harrumphed and folded his arms, as well as he could, giving a passable impression of his daughter at her most determined. All to no avail. The Kid had refused to visit more than once a week and that was that. Nothing he could do, except fume and worry.

FINALLY, with the plaster off his foot, he was here. The Kid was right. The store hadn't fallen down round Wheat's ears. It looked good, better than expected. Neat and tidy. Just like if he'd been here. Which was suspicious. Had there been ANY trade? Had Wheat SOLD anything? Had ANY customers been in?

"How are the books, Wheat?" Heyes asked, harder than necessary.

"S'okay. Ya man from Porterville showed me how they worked. I's reckon I've done 'em right." Wheat swallowed, hard. This would be the big one. THE test. He knew from past experience how meticulous, Heyes was about keeping records.

Heyes looked doubtful and rose from the stool, staggering a little. Both Wheat and the Kid reached to steady him.

"I'm fine," he snapped. He took a deep breath. "Okay, show me the books."

"Well they're out back, Heyes," said Wheat, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to the small office.

"Yep," Heyes nodded and set off in that direction.

"Well I don't need to be here for this," the Kid said. "I'm gonna take myself over to the saloon. See if I can't get into a friendly poker game."

The other two men looked round. Heyes with a look that said, you will come back won't you? Don't reckon I can get home on my own. Wheat's look said, you ain't leaving me here on ma own with him are ya?

The Kid smiled ruefully, reading both faces correctly. "I'll be back. Couple of hours. That enough time?" He opened the door, not waiting for an answer. "Have fun." Then he was gone. It would be interesting being a fly on the wall in that place for the next little while. He'd been caught between Heyes and Wheat enough times to know he would be better off out of it.

Heyes and Wheat looked at each other.

"Books, Wheat."

"Yep."

ASJASJASJASJ

"What does that say?" Heyes stabbed his finger on the page of the ledger. That wasn't the first time he'd said that this afternoon. Wheat's writing was appalling, difficult to decipher even when the spelling was correct. In most cases, it wasn't and this particular entry was the worst yet.

Wheat frowned at the entry in the ledger. "Er … well … it er says … ," he puffed. "It er … ."

"You don't know do you?" Heyes sighed, pinching the top of his nose in barely disguised patience.

"'Course I do!" Wheat was indignant. "It's … well it's y'know … that."

"What?" Heyes dropped his hand, wearily. This was taking forever. His foot and arm were hurting and his patience had just about run out. "I dunno what it says. I didn't write it!" He crept forward and gave a deep sigh. "Okay where are the invoices? Let's see if we can match it by amount. At least I can read that!"

"Here."

Wheat moved the full letter spike over towards Heyes, who smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. He waved his hand at Wheat to unspike them.

"Are they in any particular order?" he asked, dryly, as Wheat made a pile of invoices in front of him.

"Sure," said Wheat, looking furtive.

"And that is?" Sheesh, it was like drawing teeth.

"This … ," Wheat began. "This order," he added, triumphantly.

Heyes bit off the retort he was thinking and licked his lips. Slapping his hand on the pile, he drew them towards him and started to go through the invoices looking for the amount on the ledger. Someway down the pile, he appeared to find it, looking from the invoice to ledger and back again in horror.

"WHEAT, this isn't even PHONETIC!"

"Yeah it is Heyes. There's an invoice for nets further down." Wheat made to take the pile back.

"No!"

Heyes sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No?"

"No."

"Well how d'ya know?"

"Believe me Wheat I know," he sighed. "We don't STOCK phonetics 'cos it's not a THING!"

Wheat sniffed and shrugged his neck back and forth. "Well … ," he started, and then thought better of it. Heyes was right and he knew it. Much as it stuck in his craw to admit it. "Ya alright Heyes? You look a little green."

Heyes sighed. "I'm just a little tired." He smiled weakly. "Think I've overdone it coming here today. Let's do this another time, huh?"

"Sure Heyes," Wheat said, starting to gather up the paperwork and not believing his luck that Heyes hadn't chewed him out. Or worse, fired him. "Whatever ya say."

Heyes got up and fumbled for his stick. "Think I'll take myself off to the café and have some coffee."

"Can make you one here?" Wheat said, hoping to claw back a little goodwill.

Heyes shook his head. "I'll let you get on." Then, hearing the bell tinkling in the shop added. "You've got a customer."

Heyes limped slowly and painfully down the street to the café. He sat in the window and sipped his coffee, wondering firstly where had his brains been when he'd offered Wheat this job. In practical areas, Wheat had proved better than expected. If he could just master the books, perhaps things wouldn't turn out so bad. Writing legibly would sure help though. Secondly, what was he going to do about it and thirdly how could he fix it without Wheat getting all bent out of shape. Heyes knew he wasn't up to butting heads again right now. He sighed. Nothing sprung immediately to mind.

He sighed again and looked out of the window. Across the street from the café, the little school had just let out. Children were running away, delighted to have finished for the day. In fact, it was the end of the school year. At home, Susan was finishing for the summer as well today.

Heyes smiled as he thought on his precocious daughter. He was going to have to do something about her for next academic year. Porterville's schoolmistress had already told him that she was struggling to teach her anything new. Susan soaked up knowledge like water on a sponge. The lack of new things was making her bored and disruptive. Options then. There was sending her away to school. No, he didn't want that and she was too young anyway. Home school her. Perhaps that was a solution. Heyes shook his head. Nope. Susan liked going to school and playing with her friends. It was good for her to socialise with children of her own age. If she spent all day at home, she would get lonely and isolated. Especially when the boys went to school. Which Harry would in the Fall.

Oh and that was another hurdle to overcome. He and Mary had waited eagerly for Harry to become old enough to go to school. He'd be off their hands most of the day and someone else's responsibility. Unfortunately, Harry was the sort of boy that disaster followed around. Not as academically minded as his sister, Harry was more practical. He like to know how things worked and had the unfortunate habit of taking things apart to see. Heyes had spent many evenings trying to put things back together again. Mary spent time with both boys teaching them to read. Billy had picked it up easily and was soon reading books on his own. Harry learnt quickly but soon lost interest. He didn't want to read for pleasure like Billy seemed to. No Heyes doubted that school and Harry would get on at all. He could foresee a whole heap of trouble coming. Not something he was looking forward to and he had already warned the schoolmistress about his unruly son. Rather optimistically, he felt, she had said she had dealt with boys like Harry before. Time would tell.

Ah! He frowned at the school, an idea starting to form. Now here was a school with a teacher but no one to teach. Perhaps?

Heyes downed his coffee, threw a few coins on the table and took himself across the street. The teacher was cleaning the board as he entered and he cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked round. A middle aged, rather plain, spinster by the look of her. But she didn't look unfriendly. This might work.

"Can I help you?"

"Hope so," he smiled. He limped forward. "Name's Joshua Smith. I er own The Hardware Store across the way there."

"Oh yes I noticed it was open now. Salt River needs more businesses starting up."

"Yes I agree. It'll come I think in time. Mind if I sit down?" He indicated the front bench.

Her eyes washed over the plastered arm and the walking stick. "By all means. My name is Miss Burton. Elisabeth Burton." She looked doubtful. "You're not a parent are you Mr Smith?"

Heyes laughed. "Yes but not of one of your students, Miss Burton. I live over at Porterville. My daughter goes to school there."

"Of course. So … how can I help?"

"Well I've taken on a manager for the store here to run things for me." He smacked his lips. "He's a friend and he needed a job but I didn't realise just how bad his writing was. It's er … well it's a problem." He paused. "So I was wondering … as school is out for the summer … and if … you didn't have other plans … would you look over his spelling and hand writing? I'd pay you of course."

Elisabeth Burton smiled. It wasn't the first time in this town she had been asked to teach adults. It wasn't the sort of community that attracted educated folks. With their children at school, some adults had sought her out to help improve their own skills. With a few, she had to start at the beginning. Overall, her adult students were hardworking and appreciative of her time. She hadn't decided on it for monetary gain, and indeed, there hadn't been any. The odd bunch of flowers, home cooked pie, that sort of thing. Miss Burton also knew there were more adults in Salt River that would benefit from her help but were too embarrassed to ask.

"No I don't have any specific plans for the summer, Mr Smith. However, I have been toying with the idea of running a few classes for adults in the evenings, perhaps on Sunday. Would that be of interest?"

Heyes beamed. "Yes that would be ideal Miss Burton. If we can persuade Walter to come along, I'm sure he'd appreciate it. He's um quite a proud man."

Miss Burton looked thoughtful. "I thought I might have a few posters printed and put up in various parts of the town." She rolled her eyes with a rueful smile. "May I put one up in your hardware store, Mr Smith?"

Heyes laughed. "Yes Miss Burton. In fact, when you see my manager you can tell him I said so. His name is Walter. Walter Brown."

"I'll do that."

Heyes got to his feet with a groan.

"Are you alright, Mr Smith?" Miss Burton asked in concern. "Would you like to rest awhile?"

"Thanks. I'm okay. I'd best get back."

Back in the store, Heyes sat quietly on the stool and watched Wheat go about his business. The two customers he saw were dealt with helpfully and efficiently. Wheat was actually polite, chatted friendly-like but not for too long, and both customers departed satisfied and smiling. Heyes was impressed. He had the surprising feeling that Wheat wasn't just behaving like that because he was there. Wheat really was trying.

"Well done, Wheat," Heyes said, quietly.

Wheat nodded, feeling embarrassed. He knew what he had to do and why he had to do it. The tinkling of the bell saved him from further conversation.

"Ah he's the Kid now."

Heyes got up from the stool with difficulty. Holding onto the counter, he tested his weight on his foot. By the expression on his face, he was obviously uncomfortable.

"Ya gonna make it to the depot?" Wheat asked, in concern.

Heyes swallowed. "Dunno," he forced out.

The Kid grinned and folded his arms. "Well that's okay Heyes, 'cos ya don't have to. Figured the walk back might be too much for ya, so I hired a buggy. It's right outside."

For a moment, a wide smile of relief spread over Heyes' face. Then he sobered and nodded.

"Thanks Kid." He turned back to Wheat. "I'll come out next week and see how you're doing. If there are any problems … . And I mean ANY problems send me or Russ a telegram. Okay Wheat?"

"Walter."

"Huh?"

"Walter. That's m'name. Ya can't call me Wheat no more. I's gotta maintain my new identity. Can't do that if ya keep callin' me Wheat now can I? You should know how important that is Heyes."

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Joshua," he said, through gritted teeth.

"What? Oh yeah yeah Joshua."

Heyes got to the door then remembered the conversation he'd had with the Kid on the way over, about man management. He turned back to the counter, facing Wheat. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully as he thought carefully.

"You're doing fine er Walter." He nodded. "Keep up the good work. I'll see you next week."

Wheat watched them go, feeling pleased with himself. Things were shaping up. He was getting the hang of this job. He was learning and he was enjoying it. Above all, Heyes was pleased.


	23. Chapter 23

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty Three (The Governor)

"Jed, a telegram came while you in Salt River," Mary said, holding it out to him.

"Caroline?" While he always liked correspondence from his wife, a telegram might be bad news.

"No, it's from Cheyenne. It looks official."

The Kid frowned as he took it. Heyes stretched his neck to see but the Kid moved away to read. Heyes rolled his eyes and puffed. Mary smiled and linked her arm through his. He smiled too. Mary seemed to have forgiven him for going to Salt River.

"Let's leave Jed to his telegram. Come and tell me about your day. How's your foot?"

Heyes limped off with her to the lounge. "Hurts now," he said, going for sympathy.

"Poor darling," Mary smoothed.

"Might need a kiss. That would make me feel better." He gave a deep martyred sigh. "Just a li'l bit."

The Kid smiled. He was in no doubt that Heyes would get his kiss. Shaking his head he tore open the envelope and read, Appointment made to see Governor. Tuesday next. 8am. Bring Brown and Cowdry. Gruber."

He frowned. That was odd. The federal authorities had taken over all proceedings in The Pine Lake Affair, telling him to make himself available for the trial next month. He hadn't expected to hear anything until then.

"Only one way to find out, Kid," Heyes told him cheerfully when they met in the study later.

"Why d'ya think the Governor wants to see me? And Wheat? And Cowdry?"

Heyes shrugged. "I dunno. Perhaps … ." he paused, desperately thinking of a perhaps. "He has a basket of fruit for you," he beamed, triumphantly The Kid rolled his eyes but Heyes was now in full flow. "Y'know to show his appreciation. For you being instrumental in bringing Bloodstone to justice."

"Heyes." The Kid gave a long-suffering sigh. "I'm sure an important and busy man like the Governor isn't asking me to come all the way to Cheyenne to give me a basket of fruit!"

"Exactly! So it must be for something else," Heyes said, logically.

"What?"

"I dunno!" Heyes shrugged. "You're gonna have to go and find out. Wheat and Paul were big parts of the operation." Heyes licked his lips and smiled smugly. "I bet their baskets are bigger than yours," he muttered, innocently looking up at the ceiling. Fortunately, either, the Kid didn't hear or chose to ignore.

The Kid looked at him suspiciously. "D'you know something I don't?"

Heyes shrugged. "Kid, I know many, many things." He blinked innocently.

The Kid looked at him. "Heyes have I ever told you … ?"

"Yep."

ASJ ASJ ASJ ASJ

"Why'd I have to wear a suit?" complained Wheat, as he fiddled yet again with his stiff new white shirt collar.

"'Cos ya going to see the Governor and ya need to look smart," the Kid told him for the umpteenth time, straightening Wheat's tie.

"Yous and Cowdry are goin', don't need me as well," the smart man grumped.

"The Governor asked for you special. Ya gotta go and you're going," the Kid said, firmly. He turned to Cowdry. "What d'ya think Paul?"

Cowdry cast the critical eye of a gentleman's gentleman over the big man. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, tilted his head first one way then the other, sniffed and then pursed his lips again. Wheat glared at him, the Kid gave in to an amused look.

"He'll do," Cowdry declared, finally. "Just."

"Now jus' a dang … ." Wheat took a step forward towards Cowdry but the Kid caught his arm.

"Wheat, believe me that's high praise," the Kid said, glancing at a grinning Cowdry. At first, Cowdry's comments had irritated him too but gradually he had begun to recognise them as valuable. Cowdry seemed to have a knack of saying what the Kid needed to hear, not wanted. He was never effusive in his praise, never flattering for the sake of flattering but never overstepped the mark either.

Wheat grumbled, not entirely mollified but conceding that the Kid knew the pesky va-lay better than he did.

"We're ready let's go," the Kid said, picking up his derby.

Cowdry opened the door and the Kid walked through. As Cowdry looked back, Wheat had picked up his grubby, light grey Stetson.

"No," Cowdry said, wrestling it from his hands. "Here." He presented the new derby. Wheat glared. "Mr Brown. I know it's hard sir but you ought to look your best. This is an important meeting."

With another glare, Wheat snatched it from him and slammed it on his head. "That do ya?" he growled.

"Very nice," Cowdry smiled, pleasantly.

Wheat stalked to the door, where the Kid was waiting. The Kid chuckled and shook his head after Wheat had passed him. Cowdry grinned.

ASJASJASJAJSJ

Sometime later three smart men were sitting in the corridor outside the Governor's office. Two minutes after the appointed hour, Gruber joined them.

"Gentleman! Good to see you again," he grinned. The three got to their feet and it was the Kid Gruber turned to first. "Mr Curry," he smiled tight-lipped, as they shook hands, all pretence that he was Deputy Jones now gone.

"Marshall."

Gruber turned to Cowdry. "Mr Cowdry." They shook hands. Then Gruber turned to Wheat and looked him up and down. "Mr Brown. Very smart."

Wheat grunted and sat down, folding his arms.

"I'll just go and see what the hold-up is," Gruber said and disappeared into the office.

The Kid and Cowdry returned to the seats either side of Wheat.

"I've got a real bad feelin' 'bout this Kid," Wheat growled.

"Now Wheat we've been asked here for a reason."

"Yeah an' I knows what it is. To lock me up in the Wyoming Territorial Prison."

"State prison," Cowdry corrected and then when Wheat looked at him. "Wyoming is a state now."

"I knows that! Still a prison!" Wheat grumbled.

The office door opened and a smiling Gruber appeared. "Uncle Amos will see you now."

The Kid and Cowdry got up. "Uncle Amos?" the Kid mouthed at Cowdry, who shrugged.

They were about to enter the office when they realised Wheat hadn't moved. If anything he looked like he was about to take off in the opposite direction. Taking an arm each they levered him to his feet.

Keeping Wheat firmly between them, they made their way through the outer office into the Governor's office. The first thing the Kid saw as he walked in was an elaborately decorated basket of fruit sitting on a side table. He went cold. No! He could just imagine the smug grin that would greet him if he returned to Amnesty with that.

The Governor stood up from behind his desk.

"Uncle, I'd like to present Mr Jedediah Curry."

"Yes. Good morning," Governor Barber said, walking around the desk. "Of course, I HAVE heard of you," he added, as they shook hands.

"Yes sir. I figured ya might."

"Mr Paul Cowdry."

"Governor, pleasure to meet you." They shook hands.

"And Mr Walter Brown."

"Ah! Yes, Mr Brown." The Governor extended his hand and the Kid nudged Wheat to accept.

"Governor."

"Take a seat, gentlemen this won't take long," said the Governor, retreating or so it seemed to Wheat, behind his desk. When everyone was seated, the Governor laced his fingers on his desk. "Muttie tells me … ." He stopped and laughed at the faces pulled in front of him. "Ah yes I should say Helmut. Muttie is a family name and it's indiscreet of me to use it in a formal setting." He cleared his throat. "Helmut has told me all about Nathan Bloodstone and how he now comes to reside in prison awaiting trial. The federal authorities are extremely relieved that he has finally been stopped. The Government has lost a fortune over the years as the result of Bloodstone's nefarious dealings. The more the investigation proceeds the more things are uncovered." He shook his head. "Shocking business. Of course, I know you're aware the trial will commence next month but … well we shouldn't prejudge these matters … but there are high hopes for a conviction. Especially with your testimonies Mr Curry, Mr Cowdry."

Nods in agreement.

"I understand that this all came about because you were interested in purchasing a piece of land called Pine Lake. Is that correct, Mr Curry?"

"Yes sir. Looking for somewhere close to my cousin where I can built a summer retreat for me and my family. Kinda home from home. Get away from Boston for a while." The Kid's eyes strayed to the basket of fruit.

The Governor smiled knowingly. "And your cousin being Mr Heyes?"

The Kid returned his attention with a start. "Er yes sir. He lives quietly in Porterville these days. As I'm sure you're aware."

"Indeed. Mr Heyes has become quite the entrepreneur I believe." The Kid nodded. "And I understand you're going to be working for him, Mr Brown?"

"Er … ." Wheat swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "Yes that's correct. Managing the store over at Salt River."

"Well I hope it all goes well." The Governor hesitated. "Which leads me very nicely onto why I've asked you here. Sometime ago Sheriff Trevors came to see me about granting an amnesty … to a certain Wheat Carlson." He looked hard at Wheat, who blanched. Here we go thought that man. "As you know I'm only acting in the role as Governor and at the time Trevors came to see me I didn't feel able to grant that request. Instead, I opted to follow precedent and agree to review the situation in a year's time. When I hoped I would be assured that there had been no more crimes committed by Wheat Carlson." He paused. "I have now changed my mind."

Wheat groaned and slumped in his chair.

"Given your involvement in Bloodstone's apprehension and the fact that Mr Heyes has given you a job, I'm inclined to grant you amnesty now."

"Now?" Wheat gasped. He sat up, suddenly interested.

"If you would like it of course," the Governor added, faintly amused.

"Er … well … yeah … 'course." Wheat gave a short chortle. "Me. Amnesty. Sheesh!" The Kid nudged him and gave him a frown. "Well yes Governor thank you. I sure do appreciate that."

The Governor looked amused as he opened his desk drawer. He brought out an official paper and dipped his pen in the ink well. "I'm prepared to fill this out and sign it now. However, there are three conditions, Mr Carlson which I would like your agreement on before I do that."

"Yes sir."

"The first is that you will work for Mr Heyes for a period of no less than five years. I shall of course write to Mr Heyes with the conditions you are under in order to fulfil the terms of your amnesty. Which means Mr Carlson that you will not give Mr Heyes any reason to fire you during that time. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Wheat swallowed and nodded.

"The second is to tell the sheriff in Salt River who you are and your restrictions. An officer of the law needs to know who's abroad in his community. No doubt he will keep an eye on you."

"Yes sir."

"And the third is you will of course have no contact with any criminals during that time. You will continue to live under the alias of Walter Brown. After five years if you want to reveal your true identity to those around you that will be your decision. Do I have your agreement to those conditions?"

"Well yes sir I understand. Walter Brown that's me."

"Good then I am happy to sign this." The Governor started to fill in Wheat's name and stopped. "Is your name really Wheat?"

Wheat moved uncomfortably. The Kid looked at him with interest. He knew Wheat wasn't his given name but had no idea what that was.

"No sir it ain't. I mean it's not." The Governor waited for more. "It's er … well it's er … ." He rolled his eyes and his shoulders slumped in resignation. "It's Walter."

The Kid put a hand over his mouth to hide the grin. Cowdry just looked away to hide his. The Governor just smiled as he wrote Walter "Wheat" Carlson. He signed the bottom with a flourish, and blotted it. "Helmut, please have my secretary record this. You can collect it on your way out. Congratulations, Mr Carlson, you are now a free man."

Wheat let out an audible sigh of relief. The Kid and Cowdry both patted him on the shoulder.

"Thank you sir."

The Governor nodded and turned to Cowdry. "Now Mr Cowdry I understand without your intervention the situation might have turned out somewhat differently. Perhaps even losing the quarry entirely."

"Well I … ." Cowdry shrugged modestly. "Spur of the moment sir. I didn't plan it."

"Nethertheless, your intervention allowed Sheriff Gunnison to make the arrest. I believe you're originally from England Mr Cowdry?"

"Yes sir."

"And I also understand that it is the custom in that country to give the freedom of the city in acknowledgement of a public service."

"I believe so sir."

"Well then," The Governor reached into the drawer again and brought out another official paper. He grinned almost boyishly. "First time I've given one of these. We've had to draw this up specially." He dipped his pen and said aloud as he wrote, "Mr Paul Cowdry, I hereby grant to you the freedom of the city of Cheyenne." He signed with a flourish, blotted and spun the paper round in Cowdry's direction.

Cowdry got up and took it, shaking the Governor's hand as he did.

"Thank you sir. I'll treasure this."

Both the Kid and Wheat leaned in to view the ornately decorated certificate, with it's officially phrased wording, before Cowdry carefully rolled it up.

"Mr Curry." The Kid's gaze had drifted to the fruit basket again and he looked a little sick at the thought of having to accept it gracefully. The Governor followed his distraction. "It's pretty isn't it?"

The Kid sighed. "Yes sir."

"It's a long service award. I'm due to present it next."

"Ah!" the Kid sighed with relief.

The Governor rubbed his chin and grinned mischievously. "Of course if you would like it, I'm sure we could find Lilian something else … ."

"No, no. I'll not deprive Lilian of its pleasure." Whoever Lillian is, he thought, lovely woman. "I'm sure she can make better use of it than I can," the Kid smiled. Phew!

"Yes I'm sure she can." He paused. "All I am going to say to you, Mr Curry is that the Department for Land Management has looked favourably on your request to purchase Pine Lake. If you would like to drop by the office afterwards then I'm sure you can negotiate to buy it. Of course you will have to adhere to the usual terms and conditions of sale for a piece of land with such valuable mineral rights on it as Pine Lake has."

The Kid nodded with a pleased smile. "Thank you Governor I'll do that."

Gruber coming back into the office was the signal that their time was up. With a final shake of the Governor's hand each, three pleased and proud men left. As Wheat collected his amnesty papers, Gruber drew the Kid aside.

"I'd just like to thank you, Mr Curry, for your assistance in this matter."

The Kid grinned. "Aw, don't think anything of it Gruber. It was a difficult case for your first time out."

"Yes it was," Gruber acknowledged. "More complicated than anyone first thought but there's something else I want to thank you for." He paused. "Thanks to you I now realise that being a lawman isn't what I'm cut out to be. I only went into it because my father and two brothers … ." He rolled his eyes and the Kid nodded in understanding. Family pressure and expectation. Gruber took a deep breath. "So I have enrolled at the University to study chemistry next semester." He smiled. "I think I shall enjoy that far more."

The Kid smiled. "Helmut, I know you will." He offered his hand. "The very best of luck."

"Thank you," Gruber smiled back, shaking hands. "I shall remember Deputy Jones with a great affection."

"Ha!" The Kid turned to his two companions. "Mr Brown. Mr Cowdry. Quick stop by the Department for Land Management and then we have some serious celebrating to do."

"Who's buying?" Wheat wanted to know.

ASJASJASJASJ

Wheat wanted to make a start on celebrating and Cowdry suggested he went along to keep an eye on him. The Kid agreed so he went alone to the Department for Land Management. The main door was open as he approached, a sign writer removing Bloodstone's name from the glass. I wonder who is in charge now, went the Kid's thought as he went in. It didn't take long to find out.

"Mike!"

Mike Templeman got up from behind what had been Bloodstone's desk and grinned. "Mr Curry, how nice to see you again. Do sit down sir."

"Mike, what happened?"

"Well, with Mr Bloodstone out of the way the Government needed someone to run this office. My dismissal hadn't made it any further so when I was asked to take over, I accepted."

The Kid laughed. "That's really good news, Mike. You deserve it."

"Thank you. So here I am. How may I help you today, sir?"

"Well Mike I'm in the market for a piece of land and I believe you have a piece for sale that would suit me just fine."

"Ah, Grassy Flatts wasn't it?" Mike grinned.

"No Mike. Pine Lake."

"Of course."

They chuckled together.

An hour later, the Kid emerged from the Department for Land Management with the title deeds to Pine Lake in his pocket and considerably lighter in the wallet. Mike had proved to be a skilled but fair negotiator. The Kid had paid more than he intended to for the property but he knew there would be a source of income from the sale of the fibrous talc. He knew who would be interested in that but that would be for another day. Right now, he had some celebrating to do. He went off in search of Wheat and Cowdry and hoped he could catch up.


	24. Chapter 24

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty Four (Curry)

I didn't think I could write a court scene so I decided not to try. Suffice it to say, the Kid, Cowdry and Sam Flixton all made their statements at the preliminary hearing. Twelve other similar cases against Bloodstone were brought before the court. To everyone's surprise, Bloodstone pleaded guilty, therefore saving himself the ordeal of a prolonged trial. He was sentenced to ten years in a Federal Penitentiary. Didcot wanted his day in court and found guilty of murder on several counts. He hung two days later. The Bulmer brothers were sent to prison for three years. For a whole host of petty crimes alongside the kidnap of Cowdry.

The receptionist at the Flixton Mill greeted the man who walked in with an appreciative smile. It was not often a man that handsome and so smartly turned out came to the Mill.

"Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?" she asked, pleasantly, trying to keep her stomach from flipping when he smiled back.

"Yes. I have an appointment with Mr Flixton. Name's Jones."

She looked down at the appointment book.

"Yes, Mr Jones, you are expected. Mr Flixton is running a little late. Please take a seat,"

The Kid smiled and nodded.

It was ten minutes before he heard Sam's voice, then his office door opened. The Kid put down the newspaper he had been reading and started. Oh, this might be awkward! Out of Sam's office, stepped Jeremiah Curry, arm in a sling. The Kid got to his feet. He was fully aware that the reason for the sling was his stray bullet.

Jeremiah pulled up short when he saw who was in reception.

"Mr Curry," he nodded.

"Mr Curry." The Kid hesitated, his eyes flicking to Jeremiah's shoulder. "How is it?"

Jeremiah looked at his shoulder. "Getting better, thank you."

"No lasting damage, I hope," the Kid smiled.

Jeremiah returned his smile faintly. "That remains to be seen but er … ." He glanced back at Sam, standing by his office door. "No I don't think so." He nodded. "Good day, Mr Curry."

The Kid nodded and watched him go. Then Sam beckoned him into his office.

"Hallo Sam," he greeted as they shook hands. "I didn't expect to see him."

"No, I didn't intend you to," Sam said, looking embarrassed. "Our discussions took longer than I thought. Do sit down."

The Kid sat in the chair that was still warm from the other Mr Curry, which made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Despite what Sam had said, had he REALLY intended for him to run into Jeremiah Curry?

"I expect you're wondering why Jeremiah was here?" Sam asked, seemingly reading the Kid's thoughts.

The Kid shrugged and flashed a grin. "Well it's a free country, Sam. None of my business."

Sam winced and scratched his ear. "It kinda is. If what you're here for is what I HOPE you're here for." He licked his lips and looked embarrassed. "But then I shouldn't presume should I?"

The Kid leaned forward. "You're right Sam. This isn't a social call." The Kid hesitated. "How's Jeremiah doing?"

Sam paused. "He's not. He's filed for bankruptcy."

"Ah."

Both men sat in awkward silence for a moment.

"I asked him to come here," Sam said, finally. "I've made him an offer for his Mill."

The Kid was surprised. "After what he tried to do to you?"

Sam winced. "It wasn't him was it? He was desperate and I … well I like Jeremiah. I respect him. He's a good paper manufacturer and he's been in this game longer than I have."

"Is he gonna accept?"

"I think so. He doesn't really have any choice. I made him a fair offer and … ." Sam hesitated. "I offered to keep him on as Manager BUT … ." He hesitated again. "I plan to convert to using woodchips. Rags just aren't viable anymore and I can't keep it running as it is."

The Kid nodded and sat back in his chair. "So a reliable supply of fibrous talc would be handy then?" he said, casually.

Sam tried to stop the smile but failed. "Yes it would. Do you know of one?"

"I might. The owner of Pine Lake could probably help you there."

Sam smile widened. "If I knew who that might be … ?"

The Kid grinned. "I just happen to know that. I purchased it last month. Wanted to get the trial outta the way before I came saw ya. I have the mining rights so … . Are you interested?"

"If the price is right yes."

"Ah, yes that depends on how we wanna do this. I was going to suggest that ya might like to take on the mining operation. Diversify a little. I only want a small-scale operation so I didn't think it would be too much to ask. But it sounds like ya're gonna have ya hands full up at Longwater. So, I guess I'm looking for a mining engineer to run things instead."

Sam nodded.

The Kid pursed his lips in thought. "D'ya know of one?"

Sam looked a little cagey. "Might."

The Kid decided not to press for now. He went on a different tack. "Say where d'ya get your fibrous talc from now?"

"I use it in two ways so several places. The nearest place is Montana but I take some from Texas as well. Theirs is finer."

The Kid nodded. "In that case, I guess we're gonna have to wait 'till I know what I've got at Pine Lake."

Sam shrugged. "It'll be one or the other. Whatever it is shipping costs will work out a lot cheaper," he grinned, and then sobered. "Mr Curry … I can't stress how important this could be to my business." He hesitated. "I'm willing to participate in a partnership to undertake the extraction if that would make it easier for you." He swallowed hard. He was proposing to go into business with a reformed gunman. And one he didn't know. Not that he knew any. Yet Mr Curry looked every inch the businessman he was these days. Sam had done some research into Mr Jedediah Curry and he liked what he found. Yes, he'd take the risk.

ASJASJASJASJ

Later, the Kid was telling Heyes about his conversation with Sam.

"Thanks," he said, Heyes handed him a glass of his good whiskey. Nothing like a companionable drink after a satisfying meal. Even better, when it was in Heyes' study.

"Do you think you can make it work?" Heyes asked, putting the top on the decanter.

"Yeah I don't see why not. Sam's a nice guy. I trust him, even though he wouldn't tell me what he's currently paying for his supply."

"You can find out."

Heyes settle himself in the opposite wing back chair and propped his liberated foot up on the pouffe.

"Yep and he knows I can. And knows I will." He took a sip. "It's early days I suppose. I'll see about getting a mining expert. Take it from there."

The two men sat in silence, both pondering how far they had come in so short of a time.

"You're looking more like your old self, Heyes," the Kid said suddenly. "It's good to see."

Heyes pressed his lips together into a tight smile and nodded. "I'm feeling much better. Now I've got rid of that cast." He widened his eyes at his foot.

The Kid nodded in understanding. It must have been difficult to drag that around while he was on crutches, especially as he had use of only one serviceable arm.

That cast had been off for a month. Heyes was still using a stick to help him walk but he was trying to rely on it less and less. All the bruises and lacerations had healed, including the wound on his cheek. Despite Wheat's declaration that it would scar, it had faded to a faint discolouration. It was barely visible. His ribs only hurt now if he twisted awkwardly. He tried not to do that. The cast on his arm remained but he was hopeful in a short while, the whole thing might be gone.

Heyes was looking like he wanting to say something but was hesitating, bouncing his fist on the arm of the chair and alternately putting it to his lips.

"Kid … ," he began, then cleared his throat and laced his fingers over his stomach.

"Heyes?"

Heyes sighed. "Now that I'm nearly recovered … ." He licked his lips. "Well … how much longer … can you stay?"

The Kid shifted in his seat. That was something he had been thinking about in the last few days. The trial was over and he had no official reason to stay. Before he could answer, Heyes spoke again.

"Gonna miss you."

The Kid nodded. "Yeah Heyes I'm gonna miss you too but … ."

"I know … ." Heyes nodded in understanding.

"Caroline's my wife Heyes. I need to get back and if I don't go soon I might get stuck here for the Winter. I want to get back in time for the baby. And then there's the boys. I bet they've grow. Hope they still recognise me."

Heyes smiled faintly. "Yeah. I understand Kid. Really I do. I know I'd feel the same if the roles were reversed. You have to be there for the Curry family just as I have to be here for the Heyes family." His grin widened and he rolled his eyes. "Or the Smith family, I should say."

"You've got a good life here, Heyes. Thriving business, burgeoning … ."

Heyes interrupted with a splutter. "Burgeoning!"

The Kid scowled. "Yeah it means developing, flourishing." He gave Heyes the look. That man was trying to keep a straight face. "Heyes I live in a house with a library the size of a small town. It's hard not to absorb some of the knowledge it contains. It's right there!" he said, by way of explanation.

"Must permeate through the walls then," Heyes muttered and smiled when he got the look again. He cleared his throat. "You were saying," he said, casually taking a sip of his drink.

The Kid hesitated then continued. "You have a BUGEONING writing career, beautiful wife, who's an excellent cook, good kids, nice home. You're doing well, Heyes."

Heyes looked a little embarrassed. "Thanks Kid. I have to admit, I am enjoying life right now." His eyes drifted around the study. "This house is the icing though, Kid. If it wasn't for Soapy leaving me that money, we could never afforded to buy this land and have this built. Came at the right time too. Dunno how we woulda coped trying to bring up three kids in Mary's little house." He sighed. "Here they've got space to run about and play. Y'know kinda like we did." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then he started. "Say I almost forgot. Talking about Soapy and his will. He left you something as well. Guess I haven't had the chance to give it to you afore now." He started to lever himself out of the chair with difficulty.

"For me?" The Kid was amazed. Soapy leaving Heyes something in his will didn't surprise him at all. Heyes had known their old friend a lot longer. He had met him when they had separated as teenagers and the old flimflam man had taught him all he knew. It was apparent from the Kid's first meeting with Soapy that the old man had a soft spot for Heyes. His own relationship with Soapy, however, although amicable was never so close. Soapy remembering the Kid in his will was somewhat puzzling.

"Yup."

Heyes winced as he put his weight on his bad foot and limped over to the bookshelves.

The Kid raised his eyebrows as Heyes pulled several books off a lower shelf and then smiled when he realised they were only half books. Behind was a small safe. Of course, Heyes would have his own safe to play with! No need to cosy up and put his ear to his one, he knew the combination. As the Kid watched, fond memories surfaced, as Heyes had the safe open in a trice, rummaged around inside before taking out a couple of items.

"Here." Heyes held out one of the items and beamed, both dimples cracked wide. "I kept it wound for ya," he said, flopping back down.

"His pocket watch?" the Kid said, recognising it. He immediately thought it was an odd choice.

"Open it. There's an inscription inside."

The Kid nodded but his eyes washed over the other item Heyes held – a mysterious white envelope. Heyes gestured at him to do as he asked.

Knowing he wouldn't learn the mystery of the envelope unless he did so, the Kid opened the watch.

Heyes made a fist, put it to his lips thoughtfully and watched him read the inscription. All sorts of emotions flickered over the Kid's face until finally he looked at Heyes with a frown.

"I don't understand," the Kid said. "Is this … my Pa's watch?"

The inscription read: _To Thaddeus Curry on your 21st birthday. Your loving brother Jonathan._

Heyes took a deep breath, swallowed hard and then held out the envelope.

"I don't know exactly what is in this but I suspect it's an explanation." Heyes nodded at the watch in the Kid's hand. "For that."

The Kid hesitated and slowly took the offered envelope. He dropped it into his lap and stared at it for several long minutes.

"I don't think I wanna know," he said, finally. He looked across at Heyes. "Do I?"

Heyes licked his lips nervously and nodded. "Yeah you do. Otherwise it'll just eat at you." He paused. "And I can't tell you," he said, quietly.

The Kid widened his eyes. There was all sorts of implications in that statement.

"Why not?"

Heyes looked reluctant to say, sucking in air through his teeth, licking his lips, bouncing his fist on the chair arm. Finally, he winced. "It's not my secret. Read the letter," he ground out before biting his thumbnail.

"Ya been keeping secrets from me?"

"Read the letter," Heyes growled. "It'll explain Soapy's side of things." He hesitated. "I'll try and explain mine when you've read the letter," he offered in further explanation. He motioned to the Kid to get on with it.

The Kid gave Heyes a lingering look before his thumb inserted itself under the lip of the envelope. He broke it open with a flourish.

Heyes watched nervously as the Kid took out the contents, and then checked to see there was nothing further inside. Then suffered another look from the Kid, before he watched him unfolding the single sheet of paper. Heyes swallowed nervously as the Kid's eyes settled on the hand written page and began to read.

 _Dear Jed_

 _I hope this letter doesn't come as too much of a shock. As you read it, please keep in mind that you mustn't blame Heyes for not telling you these things._

 _I expect you are wondering how I come to be in possession of your father's watch. Well I have to tell you, Jed, that your father, Thaddeus Curry, was my younger brother. He and I, had an unfortunate differing of opinion before you were born, regarding how I chose to make my living. MY father, your Grampa Curry, of course, agreed with him. With the exception of my sister, Susan, Heyes' mother, I had no further contact with my family. As Heyes will tell you, I visited his folks when I could and I corresponded regularly with my sister. So, I have been aware of you since you were a small boy and I was delighted that I was able to know you as an adult._

 _Despite our estrangement, I was fond of my brother, your father. I stayed away because I wasn't welcome by him or MY father. Although I didn't always agree with their philosophy on life, I respected their viewpoint. Sadly, I could understand it and it was out of respect for Thaddeus, not MY father, that I accepted it and stayed away. It is to my everlasting regret that Thaddeus and I didn't get the chance to repair our relationship before he died so horribly. Perhaps in the next life things will be different._

 _When we first met, you had recently been living with that poisonous old toad of a father of mine. I don't regret not reconciling with him! Knowing where you had received some of your upbringing, I doubted if you would have anything to do with me, had you known then who I was. Nor been willing to accept the truth even if I had been able to divulge it at that time._

 _So please don't blame Heyes. I swore him to secrecy and you know he's a man who takes his promises seriously. It was my decision and mine alone not to tell you before now. Heyes was only abiding by my wishes. I knew how you felt about your folks but I also knew how your folks felt about me. It seemed a disastrous combination. I decided it wouldn't do either of us any good for you to know that I was your uncle. And I have to confess that I liked getting to know my other nephew without any complications from the past._

 _I can't make up for keeping this knowledge from you all these years but I hope you can understand why I thought it necessary. Teaching you, in particular, the tricks of my trade was difficult for me, remembering as I did your father's opposition to it. In a way, I felt as though I had let him down by drawing you into the criminal world. Yet by the time we met, you were already on the outlaw trail and I convinced myself that I was only imparting skills that would keep you ahead of the law. I soon had great confidence in your abilities to do that. In some respect, you picked up the nuances that I taught you better than Heyes. I am much relieved that those days are over for you both and that Hoyt, in his wisdom, saw fit to give you the opportunity to resume your lives. I'm glad to see that you are both back on the course your lives should have been from the beginning._

 _Heyes tells me that you have been fortunate to marry a wealthy woman and that you have fallen into a new career which holds great promise. So I have concluded that leaving you money would not be appropriate or necessary. Instead, I have left you your father's watch. He was delighted when I bought it for him as a present for his twenty-first birthday. He had never had a watch of his own before and I could see that it meant a lot to him. When he threw it back at me on that terrible night when we last saw each other, I saw the pain in his eyes. Just for a moment before, the old man dragged him away. So I feel had things been so very different, it would be yours by rights. I wore that watch every day for the rest of my life and it reminded me that I had a brother, who despite it all, I loved. And he had a son who I've also loved. I have tried to keep my eye on Heyes and you as best as I could, in memory of my two lost siblings. It hasn't always been easy and I suspect the amount of grey hair I have ended my days with has something to do with the two of you!_

 _You may look like your mother, Jedediah but there is a lot of your father in you too. And you should be gratified to know that, now the youthful impetuous ways are over, and speaking as one who knew him, that you are a man your father would be proud to call son._

 _I hope that Jedediah Thaddeus Curry, my nephew, has a happy and successful life. Knowing what a stubborn and determined man you can be, I believe you will._

 _Don't think too badly of me will you? Your loving uncle, Jonathan Curry._

 _(Although I won't be too aggrieved if you prefer to remember me, as you have always known me, as Soapy Saunders.)_

The Kid stared at the letter for the longest time and Heyes sat quietly, watching him carefully. Finally, the Kid looked up and he looked sad.

"You lied to me, Heyes."

"No I didn't," Heyes said, firmly. "I told you I had found Uncle Jonathan and that he had introduced me to Soapy Saunders." He paused. "What I didn't tell you was that they were the same person. I didn't lie to you." He paused again. "I just couldn't tell you the truth."

"You couldn't tell me?" he asked, in a whisper.

"No," Heyes said, shaking his head. "It was Soapy's decision and he made me promise. I had to respect his wises. You can see that, can't you?"

"Yeah." The Kid looked down at the letter and watch in his lap, his bottom lip trembling. "But why?" he burst out. "I kinda understand why he didn't wanna tell me at first but surely later … ?"

Heyes looked uncomfortable, swallowed hard and leant forward, resting his hand on the Kid's arm. "That has a lot to do with Grampa Curry. The ole man shut his elder son out of his family. You lived with Grampa Curry after … ." He licked his lips and couldn't finish. He didn't need to. The Kid knew he meant after they had separated over the choice of destination, post Valparaiso. Heyes was determined to find Uncle Jonathan, the Kid just as adamant in finding Grampa Curry. Both had succeeded in their goals.

Heyes sat back. "Well did he ever say anything good about Jonathan?" he almost snapped.

The Kid considered, finally shaking his head. "Naw! He didn't mention him regular but when he did … no." He shook his head. "No, nothing good."

"Jonathan knew he could never overcome that, knowing how you felt about Grampa Curry and your Pa. He's not saying they were wrong, Kid. Just that he wanted to have a relationship with you, that started with a blank sheet. So he couldn't tell you who he was. It would never have worked." Heyes hesitated. "And if he had told you it might have made things awkward between US and he didn't want that. He didn't want US falling out over something that wasn't our argument."

The Kid looked down and swallowed hard. "Yeah I guess I can understand that." He frowned and nodded. "It woulda been nice to know Heyes that I had another living relative 'sides you all these years."

"Yeah," Heyes sighed, regretfully. "And for that reason I tried to persuade Soapy to tell you on several occasions." He shook his head. "But he was always adamant. You weren't to know until … ." He gestured at the letter. "Now," he finished quietly.

The Kid looked at Heyes, tears in his eyes. "And ya couldn't tell me?" he asked, almost a whisper.

Heyes shook his head, biting his lip. "No. I know it was selfish of me and I apologise." He paused. This was difficult for him and his voice caught. "I nearly did on several occasions but the promise I made to Soapy always stopped me." He put his head down to hide the water forming in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't."

The Kid nodded in understanding. "That's alright Heyes I understand." He re-stuffed the envelope with fumbling hands. "You were in a difficult position." He sat quietly for a moment. "I liked Soapy. He was a nice ole gentleman."

Heyes smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Sounds like we were jus' following family tradition by living under aliases."

Heyes looked up in surprise and smiled. The Kid was over the shock and didn't bear him any ill will.

"Yeah Kid, I guess we were," he agreed.

The Kid sat quietly looking away from Heyes, who he knew was watching him. Finally, the Kid took a deep breath and looked back, a faint smile on his face.

"Wanna read this?" he asked, holding out the letter.

Heyes hesitated, flattened his lips together and shook his head. "It's private, Kid. Between you and Soapy."

The Kid snorted. "Ya know 'bout this anyway," he insisted.

Heyes reached forward slowly and took it. The letter didn't contain any surprises and he nodded before handing it back.

"Good letter."

"Yeah," the Kid said, doubtfully. "Not sure he's right that my Pa would be feeling proud of me right now. Not after what I did up at Longwater."

"Kid, I think he would be glad that a killer was dead and could no longer hurt anyone anymore. You took part in a lawful operation. He would have been proud of your part in that. And glad that you came through it alive."

"I suppose so," the Kid sighed. He sat in silence staring at the wall. "Wasn't jus' Soapy was it?" he said, suddenly. "I have 'nother cousin, his daughter, Rose*."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah. Rose."

Now the Kid was smiling wider. "Now I understand why you always tried to shy me away from her. An' there was me thinkin' it was 'cos YOU were sweet on her."

Heyes laughed. "ME?" He shook his head. "No." He smiled fondly. "No Kid she's not my type." He hesitated, a wry smile on his face. "She has too much Curry in her."

Heyes received the look, pressed his lips together and nodded in acceptance.

Both men were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

For Heyes, relief that a potentially significant rift between them appeared averted. He'd had to tell him. He'd promised Soapy that he would when the time was right. Yet he hadn't been looking forward to it. He was glad that the Kid had taken the revelation calmly. There had been a time when the Kid would have blown up over something much more trivial than this. Perhaps the Kid was now a wiser, calmer, and more measured individual. Heyes smiled. That was good to see.

The Kid was thinking back over his meetings with Soapy. Yes, he'd noticed the warmth between Heyes and Soapy and that had been explained. Yet there were other signs. The touch of an arm, a wink and a smile, the shaking of hands for longer than strictly necessary, the covering of those shaking hands with the other hand, the delight on Soapy's face when they met. Far more than was warranted from an old mentor. Yep, it all made sense now he knew. The Kid sighed. He'd vaguely known about Jonathan Curry as a child but he wasn't talked about in his hearing. Only Heyes ever talked about him properly and even then, he had said he'd lost touch. Yet Jonathan Curry had lived on.

"When we were trying to stop that kid being hung for murder 'cos he insisted he was me, is that why you came up with the name Jonathan Curry?" the Kid said, suddenly.

"Huh?" Heyes jolted out of his thoughts and frowned. "Um, yeah sorta. It was the first name that came into my head." Heyes paused. "Seemed appropriate. As we were pulling a con of sorts," he shrugged.

The Kid pursed his lips and nodded.

 _*This is NOT the same Rose as Cowdry's Rose. I just happened to call them by the same name at different times. This Rose featured in a challenge so as both stories are posted, I can't backtrack!_

 _The Kid was later to keep Soapy's memory alive by calling his third son, Jonathan._


	25. Chapter 25

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty Five (By the Grave)

Wheat bent down and laid flowers on the grave. He smiled at the newly carved and erected headstone. On the edge of the graveyard two men stood, watching. One in a brown corduroy jacket, arm in a sling and holding a walking stick. The other in expensive eastern style suit and perhaps looking out of place but then again not. They stood quietly side-by-side.

"Sorry I don't know ya dates, li'l partner but I figure ya won't mind too much."

The headstone said, Kyle Murtry, the bestest partner a man could have. Wheat sighed as he read it.

"Yep, I reckon ya were that alright." He sighed again. "Best tell ya what's been happening 'cos I don't reckon I'll be able to make it out to see ya too much. I's working for Heyes agin. Yeah I knows we don't get along real good but he's done given me a job an' … well he ain't so bad now he's got amnesty. None of those grand-e-oise schemes of his anymore. Got hisself a real nice set up these days. Hardware Store. Jus' opened another store at Salt River an' that's where I's come in." Wheat drew himself up. "Gone an' made me the manager there ain't he?" He cleared his throat. "Reckon it'll work out. In the end. If we's both work at it." He sounded a little doubtful.

"Anyways the thing I really wants to tell ya is the Governor of Wyoming has done given me an amnesty. Yeah can ya believe it? Me? Wheat Carlson."

He paused.

"Helped the Kid out with some land deal he was after. Got more complicated than it shoulda and he needed my help to secure it. Turns out the federal government were after the same fella who was behind it all and we's got him. So's all worked out in the end for the Kid. He done got the land he wanted, near Heyes and as a thank you for my assistance the Governor of Wyoming gave me amnesty."

He paused again.

"It's over Kyle. All those wasted years. Over. Finished. No more running and hiddin'. All over with. Reckon ya'll be proud of me li'l partner. Anyways I'd best be off."

He rose to his feet as the two men silently joined him to stand one on either side of him. For a moment, all three of them looked silently down, respectfully.

"We'll I's gotta go now Kyle," Wheat said, suddenly, his voice breaking a little. "Ya rest in peace, y'hear." He walked quickly away.

The two men nodded at the grave and followed him, catching up at the edge of the graveyard where he'd paused. Each put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kyle would be proud of ya, Wheat," the Kid said. "Got a home, real money paying job. Not wanted anymore."

The big man nodded and looked away. He cleared his throat. "Yeah I knows that Kid. An' it's a real good opportunity I's got now but …"

He started to turn his head but the man in the brown corduroy stopped him.

"Don't look back, Wheat. I know it's hard but you've gotta look forward now." He paused and swallowed. "I want you to look forward 'cos I need you."

Wheat looked at him, a little surprised at the choice of words. There was no mischief there. Only sincerity.

"Yeah Wheat. Ya settled now," the Kid added, patting the big man's shoulder.

Heyes did likewise on the other.

Wheat nodded and the three of them walked away. None of them looked back.


	26. Chapter 26

Settling Wheat – Part Twenty Six (Blackie)

Heyes followed the Kid down the path to the stable block. He nervously pulled at his cuffs as he walked. He was now entirely cast-free since yesterday. Under his arm, he carried his walking stick. He was trying to do without it but Mary had persuaded him to take it with him. His limp was more noticeable when he was tired and that's when he did lean on it. For now, he was content to carry it unused. However, the walking stick was the last of his worries. This would be the first time since the accident that he had ridden, let alone his own horse, Blackie.

As the stables came in sight, he could see that John his liveryman-cum-gardener had saddled that horse and it was waiting by the paddock for him. By the side of Blackie, stood the horse that the Kid had rented for this first and only ride out this trip. They were only riding into town, a distance of three miles. They would spend the morning catching up with Lom and other friends. The Kid and Cowdry would be leaving for home this afternoon. Heyes was particularly keen to see if The Hardware Store was still in business. He hadn't had a chance before this. On previous trips out, the Kid had taken him straight to the train depot. Both Mary and the Kid assured him that everything was fine. Ted and Russ, the two boys he employed there, had run it effectively and efficiently while he was away. However, there was no substitute for seeing things himself.

First, he had to get there. As Heyes neared the stables, he lagged further and further behind the Kid. He was fixing the black horse with a stare and swallowing nervously. He wasn't looking forward to this. That horse had very near killed him. He was all too aware that there hadn't been any reason that he could determine for the animal's behaviour. To add insult to injury, the Kid had reported that Blackie had been fine when he rode him.

The Kid walked on ahead, chatting away, unaware of the disquiet that his partner was facing.

"Sure will be nice to catch up with Lom and the other fellas in town without all this Pine Lake business hanging over m'head."

He swung into the saddle of the borrowed horse and gathered the reins, ready for the off. Heyes had stopped and was standing on the path. It didn't take a genius to work out something was wrong, but what?

"Josh?" he frowned, conscious that John was nearby, waiting for them to depart.

Heyes took a deep breath and let it out slowly with a judder.

"Heyes, you alright?" the Kid asked, in a lower voice.

A tongue appeared and licked lips. Then more sucking in air through his teeth. Another deep breath.

The Kid dismounted and went to Heyes, touching his arm in concern.

"Heyes?" he frowned.

When Heyes looked at him, he looked panicked and frightened. And embarrassed. "John, would you saddle Nellie for me, please?" Heyes asked in a shaking voice. With a rub of his forehead, and a frown he walked quickly away.

John and the Kid swopped glances. Nellie was Mary's docile mare. The Kid nodded to John. As John went inside to do that, the Kid walked over to where Heyes was leaning on the paddock fence.

"What's going on, Heyes?"

Heyes turned his head away, biting his thumbnail, as the Kid joined him.

"Heyes?"

The Kid put a hand on Heyes' shoulder.

"Come on Heyes, talk to me," he said, gently.

Heyes shook his head, furiously and turned his head further away.

"Are you …?"

"No!" Heyes gasped but a sniff gave him away. He put a hand over his eyes, and shook his head. "I can't do it, Kid."

"Can't what?" The Kid was beginning to suspect what was wrong but you don't assume anything with Heyes. He needed him to tell him.

Heyes shook his head, furiously. "It's ridiculous," he sniffed. A hand scrubbed at his face. "You know me Kid, I can ride any horse."

"Yep," the Kid agreed. "Ya have what they say back East as a good seat."

Heyes nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. A hand over his mouth, he shook his head. "But not anymore." As he looked round, the Kid could see that his eyes were wet. "I can't get on that horse, Kid. I just can't do it," he gasped. He looked away again. "It's so stupid."

The Kid shook his shoulder. "No it isn't. After what had happened to you, I don't mind admitting that I gave it a thought or two afore I got on him."

Heyes licked his lips and nodded. "You're a braver man than I am then," he conceded, quietly.

Heyes looked back at the black horse and ran a hand through his hair. "This is so stupid." He shook his head, in despair at himself. "I've ridden all my life and I'm an experienced rider. I shouldn't be … ." He broke off, shaking his head as he looked down, hands on hips.

"Give it time Heyes. This is ya first ride since your accident. You're bound to be apprehensive. It's too soon perhaps an' you're still healing."

Heyes nodded, pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. "It's not that. I wanna ride. I know I can. Just not … him."

The Kid smiled. "Will ya be alright on Nellie? We could take the buggy instead?"

Heyes shook his head. "Mary's not an experienced rider and she can handle her just fine." He swallowed and tried a small smile. "No I'll be fine on Nellie. At least she hasn't tried to kill me." He took a deep breath. "No you worry about staying on your horse, Kid. I'll worry about staying on mine." _(I had to have him say that, didn't I?)_

ASJASJASJASJ

"You gave my son handcuffs for his birthday! Whatever possessed you, Papa?" Mary furiously cut up the meat on her younger son's plate.

Luke had ridden back with Heyes and the Kid. This was a farewell lunch as well as being Harry's birthday. The former sheriff was having a hard time over his choice of present for his elder grandson.

"He wanted to play at being a sheriff, I thought … ."

"No that's just it! You didn't think! He's five. What did you think he'd do with them?" Luke opened his mouth to answer then shut it again as Mary went on. "Handcuff his little brother to a tree that's what he did. And then left him there!"

"I gave him the key," Luke protested.

"Yes!" More furious cutting and then the plate passed in the direction of her younger son. "And he lost it! This is HARRY, Papa. You should know better."

Harry was missing from the table. Harry seemed astonished that you couldn't handcuff your brother to a tree without being punished. But it was his birthday, he'd grumbled, hoping for a reprieve. Mary had sent him to his room, unswayed by his argument. She would take Harry's dinner up later when she hoped he was suitably chasten. Some hope, Heyes had thought. Harry was just naturally the sort of boy who got himself into scrapes.

Mary absently pulled another plate forward, her main attention focussed on berating her father. Across the table, Heyes grunted and licked his lips nervously. That was his plate.

"You couldn't have given the key to me? Or his father?" Mary began cutting the meat up on Heyes' plate. Although with his arm plastered, he had been able to move his fingers, gripping a knife or a pen had been impossible, so Mary had cut his meat up for him. The plaster was off now since yesterday but today's dinner was his first meal where he could tend to his own plate. He was looking forward to it. Mary cut the meat into too smaller pieces, more geared to small boys than a grown man. Not that he'd dared to complain.

Luke looked a little sick and flashed a weak grin.

"His father don't need a key," he muttered, in Heyes' direction.

Heyes nodded in acceptance of the compliment to his skill.

"And just as well!" More furious cutting. "Otherwise we'd have had to chop the tree down to get Billy free!"

Heyes cleared his throat. "Um, Mary … ."

"And another thing," Mary said, waving the knife in her father's direction. "In future, tell me what you're giving to my children." More cutting, then more knife waving. "All of them."

Luke glanced at Heyes, who wrinkled his nose in sympathy and nodded. Probably for the best.

Heyes turned back to watch Mary. He frowned. She was now mashing his roast potatoes with a fork. He pulled a look of annoyance.

Along the table, the Kid watched, amused. Wheat was shovelling food in absently, fascinated by the tableau in front of him. Watching someone getting one over on Hannibal Heyes was always worth a look. The remaining children were keeping a low profile. Both knew that was the best thing when Mama was having one of her tirades. They were only grateful it wasn't at one of them. Only Cowdry was maintaining an inscrutable face, albeit with difficulty.

"Mary," Heyes tried again, waving his now plaster free arm at her.

Unfortunately, Mary wasn't finished with her father. "You may have retired Papa but did your BRAIN retire as well?"

"I'm sorry, Mary. In future, I'll have ya vet ANYTHING I give to the children. How's that?" Luke said, with a mixture of apology and irritation.

"BEFORE you give it to them."

Mary was mixing the meat, potatoes and vegetables together. Across the table, Heyes was taking a deep breath at the ruin of his dinner, which only sent Wheat off into a stifled chortle.

"Yes, alright. BEFORE. Now can we leave it?"

Wide eyed in horror, Heyes watched as Mary made a hole in the middle of the mound she had made.

"Good, I'm glad that's settled." Mary picked up the gravy boat and that was too much for Heyes.

"MARY!"

She looked across at him. "What?" She saw the look of horror on his face. He took a deep breath and eyed the plate in front of her. At the same time, he waved a hand. A hand attached to a plaster free right arm. Her eyes flicked to the hand and then down at the plate in front of her. Realisation dawned. Her lips formed an O. She sighed and started to get up. "I'll get another plate."

"I'll eat it." Heyes frowned in annoyance and reached over for the plate, dragging it in front of him. He looked in despair at his dinner, wondering where to start.

"I'm sorry, Josh. Really I'll get you another plate."

Heyes waved her down. "It's fine. I'll eat it," he snapped. "Safer," he added, to himself.

Mary sat down and reddened. Everyone including the children were looking at her. She sighed and pushed the gravy boat over. "Gravy?" she winced.

She received the look. "If I knew where to PUT … ," Heyes started and then shuddered. "Forget it," he said, swopping his fork from his left hand to the right. Taking a deep breath, he looked down the table. "So all packed?"

"Yeah, I think so. Paul?"

The Kid looked across at Cowdry.

"Yes sir. All ready."

"Good," said Heyes and looked down at his dinner. He sighed and tucked in. Sounds of mastication filled the dining room, somewhat embarrassed eating by some.

"Say er Heyes. I've been thinking about Blackie," the Kid said, breaking the silence.

"Hmmm?"

"Yeah. Have you decided what ya gonna do with him?"

Heyes picked up his wine glass and finished his mouthful. "No I haven't." It was a sore subject. He knew he wouldn't ride him again. He'd reluctantly told Mary what had happened earlier but he certainly didn't really want to discuss it here in front of everyone.

"He's a good horse."

"I know," Heyes snapped, hoping that would end the conversation. He did have a good horse, young and fit. Too good for the knackers but equally he couldn't in all good conscience sell him, knowing what had happened to him. He'd been lucky. Someone else may not be. The horse was just too unpredictable.

The Kid rubbed his chin. "If ya like, I'll take him off your hands," he said, slowly.

Heyes grunted.

"Ship him back East. Have him schooled properly. I've gotta western saddle but I ain't got a western horse," the Kid smiled.

"Dunno," Heyes mumbled and attended to his dinner.

"You'll be able to visit, Pappy," Susan suggested, hoping that would help.

"Yeah, Blackie can write!" piped Billy, and received an elbow from his sister.

"Ha!" Heyes laughed.

"I'll pay ya for him of course."

"Don't want anything for him," Heyes mumbled. "And his name's not Blackie."

"Isn't it?" The Kid frowned. "Why does everyone call him Blackie?"

"'Cos he's black but that's not his name."

"Then what is it?"

Here's twirled his fork idly in the mound of his ruined dinner.

"Briscoe. His name is Briscoe."

The Kid stared for a moment, unsure that he'd heard correctly.

"Briscoe?"

Heyes looked embarrassed. "Yeah."

"Why's he called that?" Then the Kid fell in. "Ya didn't name him after Harry?"

Here's frowned. "No 'course not. I named him after the town of Briscoe. Where I bought him."

The Kid looked doubtful. "Yeah. Why don't I believe you?"

Here's grinned and forked a mouthful. "'Course his name IS Blackie. What d'you take me for? Yeah, if you want him. You can take him. But promise me Kid," He pointed in emphasis. "Only you ride him."

The Kid nodded. "Yep. Deal."

Heyes nodded. "Deal."


	27. Chapter 27

Settling Wheat – Epilogue (The Children's Question

Susan tripped into the drawing room and the two dimples either side of her mouth lit up.

"Ah, here's Pappy."

Her two brothers came to stand either side of her.

"Are we gonna ask him now?" Harry asked, unsure. Their father was obviously asleep, head propped up on his arm that was resting on the arm of the sofa. The leg with its recently healed foot crossed over the other.

"Sure, why not?" Susan frowned. Harry and Billy looked at each other, doubtfully.

Harry took a deep breath and gave his sister a push forward. "You first," He and Billy took up positions behind her. Some way behind her.

Susan huffed. "Boys!" she sighed, with a long-suffering air. Stepping forward, she had no hesitation in giving the crossed knee a vigorous shake.

"Wake up, Pappy we need to ask you something," she said, in a loud voice.

Heyes woke with a start and a groan.

"Sheesh!"

He put his hand to his forehead, breathing deeply, eyes closed, as he waited for his wildly beating heart to calm down.

"What d'you want, Susan?" he asked, with more patience than he felt.

"We want to ask you something." Susan pulled herself onto the sofa next to him.

"Yeah we need to know now," Harry said, squeezing into where there wasn't a space between Heyes and the arm of the sofa. Heyes found himself moving up to allow the boy in, re-crossing his legs as he did so.

"Now," said Billy, straddling the crossed leg. Pappy often bounced him on it but not for a while. Billy wondered why that was. It was always good fun.

"Owh!" Heyes gasped in pain. "Billy get off. That's my bad foot!" Then seeing the boy's face begin to crumble as he obeyed, Heyes smiled and beckoned the boy back. "Come here."

Heyes lifted Billy up and sat him on his lap. Billy grinned.

"You have to know right now? It couldn't wait?" Heyes asked, more sharply than he wanted to. He finger combed his hair back. He still felt a little shaky yet he was determined not to take his irritability out on the children. He lived for moments like this. Precious moments. This was what he'd dreamed about while waiting for amnesty and he didn't want anything to spoil them. Least of all by him.

"Yes! It can't wait ANY longer."

"And you can't ask Mama?"

Susan shook her head. "No, it's about you so we have to ask YOU."

Heyes nodded. "I see. Well out with it then," he said. As I'm now awake, he added to himself and rolled his eyes. He pulled himself into an upright position.

Susan and Harry swapped glances and Harry nodded at his sister. Susan huffed. It was always her. She had to do EVERYTHING!

"We need to know why some folks call you Heyes," she said, looking up at him, intently.

Heyes blinked and he frowned. He wasn't expecting that, thought it had been settled and he would need time to consider what to tell them, if anything. This could be dangerous. "Right now?" he queried, stalling.

"Yes! It can't wait ANY longer."

"Why not?" Perfectly reasonable question, he felt.

"'Cos Mama says I'm a big girl now."

Heyes nodded, smacking his lips.

"So I need to know and you can't tell just me without the boys so they're here as well so you only have to say it once," Susan said thoughtfully and then paused. "Whatever it is," she added, ending with the full double dimples, which he had endowed her.

Heyes was speechless. Not for the first time did he think, as he looked at his innocent looking daughter, she's way too bright for her own good.

Heyes sat up straighter and folded his arms. He frowned. "Um … well it's like Wheat … ."

"Nope," Susan said shaking her head.

"It's not," said Harry.

"S'not," said Billy and rubbing a hand over his nose. Was he agreeing or was there really … ? Heyes pulled a face in disgust. He suspected the later. Even after nearly eight years of parenting, he still hesitated at dealing with some things. Anything to do with bodily fluids in the main.

"Where's your handkerchief, Billy?"

Billy pulled a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and waved it triumphantly. "Here."

"Try using it, huh?" He watched Billy closely as the small boy prepared to use the handkerchief. Then had to step in and help. His handkerchief encased fingers held Billy's nose.

"Here, Billy, blow," he said. Still with a grimace, he wiped the boy's nose and handed back the handkerchief. Susan patted his arm to get his attention. Heyes looked round.

"Pappy, we DON'T think it's a nickname, like Wheat think it is."

"You don't, huh?"

"Nope."

"Uh huh." Heyes smacked his lips and nodded considering how to play this.

"It's only certain people. If it was a nickname everybody would call you Heyes wouldn't they?"

"No not everyone. Sometimes it's not appropriate."

"It's appropriate now."

"I didn't mean … ."

"Yes Pappy now!"

Heyes looked from Susan to Harry, almost in panic.

"Now!"

Heyes looked at his determined children. Yes, they were definitely ganging up on him.

"How old are you again?" he queried with a frown, at Susan.

Susan harrumphed. "You know how old I am. I'm seven years, four months, one week and three days."

Heyes swallowed. "This can't wait until you're eight?" he asked, hopefully.

Susan sighed as only a small girl can and gave him a disapproving look. "Pappy, you're stalling."

Heyes smiled mischievously. "Yes I am."

"Don't. We really need to know, Pappy," Susan said, seriously.

"Yeah, really really," added Harry, decisively.

Billy nodded furiously.

Heyes sighed. "Who have you heard calling me Heyes?"

"Uncle Thaddeus, Wheat and Sheriff Lom."

"Yeah, Uncle Thaddeus called you Heyes a lot!" Harry said.

"Hmmm. So just the three?"

She nodded.

"Not Mama?"

Susan shook her head. "Mama calls you Josh, or Darling. Or when you've been bad … Joshua." Susan gave a passable impression of an irate Mary.

Heyes chuckled and rolled his eyes. She had that right!

"It's time we know, Pappy," Susan said, seriously.

"Yeah if you don't tell us now you know what'll happen," Harry said, warningly.

Heyes frowned at him. He disliked being threatened and even less by his small son. Unfortunately, he did know what would happen and the prospect wasn't appealing. They would just go on and on until they wore him down. He had to think quickly. Tell them enough to satisfy them but not enough that anything they said to their friends might compromise him. He felt the time was coming but he wasn't ready yet to make his old persona public. And he certainly didn't want his hand forced by three small backstabbers!

Before he could say anything, Mary joined the family.

"Hallo. This looks very serious," she said, amused by the look her besieged husband gave her.

"'Tis Mama. Pappy is just about to tell us," piped Harry.

"Tell you what?"

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Tell them why Thaddeus, Wheat and Lom refer to me sometimes … occasionally … once in a while as Heyes."

"Ah," Mary nodded. She had been wondering if the children would notice that eventually.

"And you call Uncle Thaddeus, Kid, Pappy."

Heyes looked at Susan and swallowed hard. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"Well perhaps it's time they knew, Josh," Mary said, settling herself in a chair.

"Is it?" Heyes looked at her horrified. He had expected support when she had walked into the room. Instead, she had joined the other side. "Really?" Heyes frowned, doubtfully.

Mary nodded. "I think so, Josh."

Heyes grunted. He wasn't so sure but he took a deep breath. He looked at Susan and the boys who were waiting expectedly.

"Okay." He gave a deep sigh and made Billy more comfortable on his knee, considering what he was going to say. He rubbed his chin. "I have something to tell you but it's very important that you don't tell anybody. You have to promise me now."

"I promise," Susan and Harry chorused.

"Promise," said Billy a beat later

Susan licked the pad of her forefinger and held it up. "See this wet." She turned her finger round. "See this dry." She drew her finger slowly across her throat. "Cut my throat if I tell a lie," she finished, solemnly.

Heyes chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I hope not sweetheart." He sighed and then puffed. There was no putting it off any longer.

"Okay before I met Mama, I didn't live here in Porterville. I didn't own the hardware store and I didn't write books. I did something else for a living. Something that … is … well its against the law." He paused, wincing. "It's illegal. Do you know what illegal is?"

"There's a law against it and you're not supposed to do it. You can get into trouble," Susan explained, knowledgeably.

"Is that what you call it when I'm in trouble?" asked Harry, mournfully.

Heyes chuckled. "No not quite." He ruffled the boy's hair. "An' 'cos what I was doing was illegal I was known by another name. I was known as Heyes."

He smiled pleasantly and looked hopeful. Would that do?

Not a chance!

"So what were you doing that was illegal?" Of course, who else but Susan would ask?

Heyes glanced at Mary and cleared his throat before he could go on.

"Well … you know… that taking something that doesn't belong to you is wrong don't you sweetheart? If it's without the owner's permission?"

Susan nodded.

Heyes swallowed. "Well I used to take things from banks and railroads that didn't belong to me." He rolled his eyes and smiled tightlipped and hopeful.

"What?"

"Money."

"Why?

"'Cos I needed some."

"Couldn't you borrow some?"

Heyes pursed his lips. "Nope."

"Couldn't you get a job?"

Heyes considered. "Yeah I suppose so," he said, reluctantly.

"But you didn't?"

"No."

"Why?"

"'Cos …" Heyes took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. "It was kinda easier to do it the way I did." He swallowed hard. Boy, this was difficult! He frowned. "But it was very wrong of me. I know that now. So I stopped doing it and the authorities have forgiven me," he said, quickly, getting in before there were any more questions. There, done.

Susan smiled. "That's good."

"Yes it is," Heyes agreed with a nod. "But because of what I used to do I don't call myself Heyes anymore. But folks who knew me then, for instance, Lom and Wheat and Thaddeus still call me Heyes." He shrugged. "It's a habit I guess."

"But if the authorities have forgiven you why can't you call yourself Heyes anymore? If that's your name?"

"Because … I had a new life and I wanted a new name to go with it."

"Can you just do that? Suddenly call yourself something else?" Harry wanted to know.

"Yeah. Pretty much I reckon."

"Can we call you Heyes?" Harry asked.

"No. You can call me Pappy."

"Mama, why don't you call Pappy Heyes?"

"Because like Pappy said, I didn't know him then. I know him as Joshua so that's what I call him. And besides …"

Heyes frowned hard and the shake of his head told her not to continue. She was going to say that Heyes was his last name, like Smith.

"Besides what Mama?"

Mary thought wildly. "I … much prefer Joshua to Heyes," she smiled; pleased she had got out of that one. She looked at her husband. She did prefer Joshua to Heyes but she wasn't thinking of just the name.

Heyes looked at Susan. "Are we done?"

Susan nodded. He looked at Harry for an answer.

"Suppose so," he said begrudgingly. "Can I be called something else?"

Heyes glanced at Mary and then smiled back at Harry. "Like what?"

The small boy gave it a thought and then had a lightbulb moment. "I know! In one of those books you read us at bedtime, there's someone called Dodger," Harry grinned, triumphantly. "I like Dodger."

Heyes looked at him incredulously. "Dodger? The Artful Dodger?"

"Yes that's him." Harry nodded, enthusiastically.

"No." Heyes was firm.

"Awh, Pappy!"

"No!"

Heyes looked at Mary, who was biting her lip. He looked at her wide-eyed in accusation. You're supposed to be on my side, he said, silently. He looked back at Harry.

"Your name is Harry and that's an end to it."

"Bodger then?" Harry tried.

"No! Not Dodger, Bodger, Codger, Lodger or anything ending in an odger! Harry Smith is a perfectly good name."

Beside him, Susan frowned. "Shouldn't it be Harry Heyes?"

Heyes looked at her open-mouthed. "What do you mean? Our last name is Smith."

Susan shook her head. "Nope."

Across the room, Mary saw Heyes stiffen and she knew he was done playing. It was up to her to rescue the situation. She got up.

"I made some brownies earlier. They should be cool enough now. Who wants one?"

"Me!" A childish chorus went up.

Billy squirmed off Heyes' lap, causing him to grunt. At the same time, Harry squeezed himself out of the non-existent space between Heyes and the arm of the sofa. Heyes smacked his lips, as Mary became the Pied Piper of Brownies. He looked at Susan. She hadn't moved and was still sitting beside him, looking at him.

"Don't you want brownies?"

"Yes."

"So?" He widened his eyes at her.

"Mama'll save me some." Father and daughter looked at each other. "Heyes is our last name really isn't it?"

Heyes looked at his daughter for a moment. "Run along, Susan," Heyes was soft but sharp. "Please don't be difficult about this."

Father and daughter looked at each other hard. Susan recognized now was not a good time to push it. She moved off the sofa and got up. When she got to the door, she looked back.

"You know Pappy. I've decided. I might not settle for just being difficult. With a little more practice … ." She paused and gave a wide grin. "I can be impossible!" she said, triumphantly.

"Wha'?" Heyes' head snapped round. "SUSAN!"

Susan had gone.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Ye-ah." He rested his head back. "Yes I know that all too well," he breathed. "Sweetheart you're gonna be the death of me." That wasn't the first time he had said that nor would it be the last. A moment later, he was chuckling to himself. "Ah well." He levered himself off the sofa with a groan. "Did Mary say something about brownies?" he muttered as he limped off in search of his share.

Heyes wasn't to know at that time but about a year later, his old persona WOULD be out in the open. But that of course is a different story.


End file.
